The Moment He Knew
by MissBri84
Summary: AU - What if Oliver had listened to Clark in "Bride" and waited until after the wedding to track down Lex? Rating: The first few chapters will be K but later on they will become M.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Smallville. They belong to The CW. I'm merely using them as a creative outlet.

Summary: AU - What if Oliver had listened to Clark in "Bride" and stayed behind so Clark could go with him to track Lex after the wedding?

The Moment He Knew

Chapter 1 – Caught Red-Handed

Clark's P.O.V.

Clark Kent had never really thought about Lois Lane. Of course he'd thought about her but never the way he thought about her now. She wasn't _just_ an annoying giant thorn in his side placed on this earth to antagonize him. She was sassy, talented, charming, and had a sense of humor that could knock you on your ass if you weren't prepared (he wasn't most of the time). She had class, and a knack for getting herself into trouble, which reminded him of Lana almost, except Lois was a lot more capable of getting herself _out_ of trouble. She had always been there for him. She was brilliant. She was independent. She was one of his best friends. She was beautiful.

When he saw her he couldn't help but smile even if he got crap for it. It started a bantering war that ensued the whole day without interfering with either's work load at the Daily Planet. It was easy, natural. It wasn't the same when she wasn't around, and she hadn't been around a lot these days because of Chloe's wedding.

Finally, there was only one day before the big event and it was like Lois Lane had disappeared and been replaced by "The General," the affectionate name she used for her father. She was flitting from place to place giving people military nicknames and doling out chores like a professional party planner. He was immensely amused by this, but tried to stay out of her way as much as possible as he already knew his role in the assembly of the Olsen/Sullivan Dream Wedding. He could do it properly without her nagging. Unfortunately, he was caught staring a little too long.

"Caught you, red-handed, Kent," Oliver Queen exclaimed quietly, not wanting to draw any undue attention from Lois either.

Clark's forehead crumpled in confusion as he looked at his friend, "What do you mean, 'you caught me'?"

"You've been standing here with your arms folded over your chest following Lois' every move for precisely," Oliver looked down at his watch, "two minutes and counting."

"I wasn't staring at Lois! _Why_ would I stare at Lois?" Clark asked, genuinely confused.

Oliver shook his head in frustration, "Two of the smartest people I know and they can't even figure out the simplest thing." Oliver rubbed his temples, trying to assess how to proceed. "Clark, when you look at Lois what do you see? Describe her for me, but include character traits not just looks."

"What's the point of this Oliver?" Oliver gave Clark a very stern scowl and he answered the question as best he could.

"Well . . . She's annoying," Oliver gave Clark a pointed glare that said 'try harder.' Clark thought long and hard and finally came up with an answer, "She's a little bit of everything."

"That's a start," Oliver was pleased by the answer, but had to know just a bit more before he would quit for the day. "It's a bit vague though. Can you clarify a little?"

Again, Clark took a long time to answer. "She's like a candy bar. You've stayed up for days staking out a story without food or drink and, finally, you're done. So you're searching for something, anything to eat, but all you can find is a Snickers bar. The whole world fades away except for you and that Snickers bar, and on some level you know that it's not the healthiest meal but you need that Snickers bar like you've never needed anything else before in your life and as long as you have the Snickers bar you'll be okay because it'll satisfy your hunger – one of a human's baser needs. Then, suddenly, you can't eat the Snickers bar because it represents something you know that you can't live without. You can't eat the symbol of one's primal need to vanquish hunger and sustain life. Plus, you kind of like having it around so you find something else to eat, and keep the Snickers bar in your pocket with you just in case you ever get hungry again. In essence, she gives me cavities."

"That was . . . descriptive. It almost sounds like you have a little cru.."

"Do NOT say I have a crush on Lois," Clark barked with animation. "Just because I implied that I need her around doesn't mean I have _those_ kinds of feelings for her! She's one of my best friends."

"Whatever you say, Kent," Oliver shrugged, a smug smile on his face. "I'll be there when you figure out how you _really_ feel about her."

"We've got bigger problems right now Oliver."

"What?"

"We've been spotted."

Sure enough, Lois Lane was marching toward them both with a look of determination and domination on her face. If there could be a look that personified 'divide and conquer,' that would be it.

"What are you two slackers doing up here chatting while the rest of us are working our asses off down there to turn this beat up old barn into a "dream palace of love" for Chloe and Jimmy?" She demanded, all business.

"No offense Lo, but you don't have much ass to lose," Oliver said jokingly.

Lois gave him one of her many 'if looks could kill' glares. She handed him a walkie-talkie and an order, "Your code name is 'man in tights'."

"Technically, they aren't tights," Oliver pointed out, quickly picking up on her Green Arrow reference, "they're leather and comfortable. Tights are not comfortable."

Lois and Clark both cocked their heads in a "_how the hell would you know_?" stare. The blush that colored Oliver's face was very faint but still noticeable. Oliver Queen did not blush, but he couldn't help thinking back to the days when his mother made him participate in every school play that ever transpired during his elementary school education. Unfortunately, tights had often been a costume requirement.

"Elementary school plays!" His explanation burst out of him in a self-conscious manner, which was rare for the young billionaire. Two seconds later he was back to normal

"Fine, make it 'man in _leather_ tights'." Lois gave him a push and an insistent glare and Oliver walked away grumbling obscenities. Clark chuckled at his friend's plight.

"I don't know what _you're_ laughing at," Lois said, sternly. "You're next."

"Oh no, I'm not. This is my property, my barn and I already know my part in the planning, which I've already finished; therefore, I don't have to have a ridiculous nickname and be bossed around by a spider monkey on speed."

"But Clark there's still so much to be done! Can't you help pick up the slack? I promise I won't give you a code name." Lois batted her eyelashes at him in an unintentionally seductive manner, "Smallville doesn't count."

Clark's heart thumped a bit harder in his chest, effectively melting his resolve. He couldn't say no to her when she looked at him like that. Brash, abrasive, and controlling as she could be, he couldn't deny her, so he came up with a plan instead.

"I think that what everyone _needs_ is a break. You're putting everyone into overdrive Lois. It isn't your fault – it's just who you are. Give me your list, and I'll look it over while everyone takes some time for themselves. If I were you I'd take everyone to that tall oak as far away from the barn as possible. It's got shade and cool grass to sit on, and I'll have Mrs. Henney come and bring out iced tea and cookies."

"That might work. I have been putting a little pressure on everyone. Maybe I can get more work out of all of them if they take a break."

"A _little_ pressure Lois?" Clark cocked an eyebrow at her.

"What?" She asked, innocently. "It's good to push people. It brings out the best in them. Where on this _earth_ would you be if I hadn't pushed you? Not at the Daily Planet, that's for sure."

"There's no dealing with you woman!" Clark sighed, and then chuckled. It was just like Lois to take credit for his individual endeavors; though, if he was really honest with himself he'd have to admit that she did have a little bit to do with his success. "Go relieve your staff!"

"You know you love me, Smallville," she said as she walked by and winked. Their hands brushed as she passed and goose bumps formed on both Lois and Clark's flesh, despite the warmth of the day.

Clark gulped, then suddenly found it very hard to swallow when he thought about grazing her hand. He forced himself to recover quickly and set himself to the items on Lois' list. It took a whole three seconds for him to finish in super speed. He _was_ a perfectionist after all. He disappeared to his room and waited for the reaction that would no doubt be a relief to Lois' staff but also an irritating buzz kill and an exciting new mystery for Lois to solve.

An hour later, when the crew returned to find all the work done, they sagged with relief. To Clark's surprise, Lois was the most relieved. When she caught sight of Clark she rushed over to him and threw her arms around him joyfully.

"You're a miracle worker, a saint!" She cried. "How did you do it?"

"Well, I had 'man in leather tights' help," Clark smirked and shrugged. He loved seeing her this way. Vulnerable. She never let her guard down except on a very rare occasion. "Off with you woman!" Clark said, playfully. "Don't you have girly things to do?"

Lois rolled her eyes, her gratitude for his earlier feats obviously waning. "That's twice in the past two hours I've allowed you to call me woman. Try it again and you'll get a mouthful of stiletto."

The fire in her eyes had returned and Clark believed that she fully intended to do exactly just what she'd threatened. Clark pretended to cower, then dazzled her with one of his famous Kent smiles, baby blues sparkling like mad as a crack in the roof let in a brilliant ray of light that bathed him like a Greek God. Lois nearly melted into a puddle right there.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from Smallville. They belong to the CW. I'm just using them as a creative outlet.

Summary: AU - What if Oliver listened to Clark in "Bride" and stayed behind until after the wedding to track Lex down?

Rating: K for now, M will come later.

**Author's Note: Just in case anyone noticed, my version of Clark's tux in "Bride" is a lot more formal than the one he actually wore in the episode. Also, thank you for all the wonderful feedback!

The Moment He Knew

Chapter 2 – Tuxedo Worship

Lois' P.O.V.

Lois was reveling in the free time Clark and Oliver had given her. She'd had practically the whole day to herself. She'd helped Chloe for an hour or so, but the bride had insisted she go rest since she hadn't slept in four days. Chloe had sworn Lois was more worried about the wedding than she was, and she wasn't even the bride. So, for once, Lois had followed an order. She'd gotten a great night's sleep, had a facial, a massage, and waxing the next morning, plus a thirty-minute power nap afterward. _Who knew being an impromptu wedding planner was so exhausting?_

Now she was walking around the kitchen in her fluffy blue bathrobe and bunny slippers sampling Mrs. Henney's, the caterer, food until the manicurist showed up to give her a mani-pedi. The hairstylist would be here around the same time to work wonders with her beautiful tresses. There were exactly two and a half hours before the wedding, and this whole nightmare would be over, making at least one person in their family happy. _Well, at least this part is nice. I could get used to all this pampering and the great food._ She nibbled another appetizer.

Drawing Lois out of her daydream was an irritatingly sharp poke to her shoulder blade. She spun around and assumed a fighting stance out of habit. Standing before her was a short man bedecked in all black that was supposed to make him look formal. He had greasy gray hair, mustache, and a black bow tie to top it off. She couldn't decide if the attire made him look like he worked for the mob or a seedy funeral home. He showed absolutely no intimidation at her defensive reaction to his impolite prodding. In fact, he looked rather bored, which served to make her lean more toward the mob angle. "Formal wear delivery for a," he looked down to the tag attached to the garment bags, his voice emotionless," Ms. Lane."

"That would be me." Lois enlightened him, making an unsuccessful effort to mimic his dry tone. "These better be in perfect condition Mr. Cement Shoes otherwise you _will_ end up sleeping with the fishes, and that _is_ a promise," she told him in her typically bold manner.

The man seemed rather uninterested, but replied, "Take a look Ms. Lane. I wouldn't want to _disappoint_ my boss with poor product and poor customer service."

He handed her the two plastic garment bags containing one black tuxedo, and one tangerine colored bridesmaid dress. She peeked inside each bag just long enough to make sure there weren't any blood stains on the formal wear before she nodded her satisfaction. The man simply stared at her for a long moment before disappearing through the front door.

That taken care of, she set off for her room but only got as far as the bottom of the stairs because a flash of black and white caught her attention more thoroughly than her hasty confirmation that the tux hadn't been worn by a murder victim had. She carefully laid her dress across the flat stair railing so it wouldn't wrinkle and examined Clark's tux. She held it up to get a better look and saw that it was single-breasted with lots of small buttons going up and down the lapels. She had a hard time picturing his large hands and long fingers trying to button those buttons. It brought a small smile to her lips. Maybe he would let her help button those buttons. _Lois, get with it! This is Chloe's day! You should be obsessing about her!_ Despite her admirable effort to refocus her attention on her bride-to-be cousin, she failed pathetically as, once again, the image of Clark in his tux paraded its way through her mind. She was absolutely certain that he would look amazing. She'd been trying to fight her feelings and attraction for him for so long she'd actually gotten pretty good at it, but today, looking at this tux . . . she was pretty sure she was going to crack.

There was another tap on her shoulder, a lighter touch, but that didn't register with Lois until afterward. Clutching the tuxedo as if she were protecting Clark himself, she spun around and back-handed the invader of her personal space and thoughts. Still clinging to Clark's tuxedo, she bent into a low crouch, ready to attack.

"Whoa! Whoa! Lois, it's me! It's Oliver! Ollie? Remember? It's Ollie!" Oliver sat up from his spot on the floor, pulled out his kerchief and busied himself wiping blood from his lip as he stared at Lois in alarm.

"Oh, Ollie, I'm so sorry!" Lois exclaimed, tossing the tuxedo over her dress and offering her hand to help him up from the floor. "The last guy that poked me in the shoulder had a serious mobster vibe going for him. You know me – kick ass first, ask questions later," she sighed, a lame smile decorating her lips.

"Kent's right. You _are_ a spider monkey on speed," Oliver chuckled, wincing as the gesture further split his swelling lip. "Mind telling me what's so interesting about that monkey suit while we go get some ice for my lip and try to dig up a shirt without blood on it?"

Lois glared at the spider monkey comment but led Oliver to the counter in front of the freezer and made an ice pack for his lip. "There isn't anything interesting about the _monkey suit_."

"Lois, you were not just staring at that tux you were _gazing_ at it and practically _petting_ it I might add; not to mention that spot of drool," Oliver thought it would be worth the risk of being punched again just to hear what she had to say to that. He'd been watching her for quite some time and knew very well who she was thinking about because there was only one man who hadn't received his tux yet: Clark Kent.

While waiting for her to answer he started dabbing the blood that had both splattered and dribbled on his dress shirt.

"Maybe formal wear turns me on; of course, it's much better when it's actually on a body." Lois could think of nothing else to say but the truth.

"Any _body_ in particular?" Oliver asked, an evil glint in his eye.

"Nope, no _body_ in particular," Lois said casually, while on the inside she was screaming CLARK, CLARK, CLARK!!!!!!!

"_Really_? No one? No one at all?" Oliver loved this game. Lois and Clark were two of the most important people in his life. He'd seen their potential from the beginning but the timing hadn't been right. Now the timing was perfect. "As beautiful a woman as you are should have men, and even a few women, lined up around dozens of corners in Metropolis to get a date."

"That may be so, but of these invisible dozens, none of them have caught my eye," she lied, her face stony and indifferent – well at least she _hoped_ that's what her face was conveying. "Even if I had my eye on someone I don't know if I could trust my instincts. All I do is choose the awful ones or the ones that leave, no offense."

Oliver shrugged, "It's the truth and I'm not proud of it, but I can't erase it. All I can do is make sure it's a mistake I don't repeat."

"You aren't trying to, you know . . ." Lois looked very uncomfortable and shifted stiffly.

"Oh, no. It's not what you think. Our ship has sunk and I don't have any desire to resurrect it, but, just because we didn't work out as a couple, does it mean we can't be friends?"

"I don't know Ollie. Post-break-up friendships are complicated. They rarely if ever work . . . but I suppose we could give it a shot," Lois felt wary about the whole idea but she liked having Oliver in her life. She didn't have romantic feelings for him anymore and he seemed very genuine when he claimed the same, but even _if_ her feelings were only platonic now she knew that if he left again she wouldn't handle it well. She smiled a sad smile. It was really over between them, and, of all people, Clark Kent was the man she wanted. She'd never wanted anyone so badly before, and just the thought of him turned her sad smile into a tiny grin. Shaking herself from her reverie, she returned her focus to Oliver.

He had a very serious look on his face, and their eyes locked before he said, "One more thing before this mushy moment ends. Maybe this time your instincts are right. Maybe you _should_ follow them for once. Maybe you _should_ trust yourself this _one_ time because I think this time your _right_ on the money." He returned the ice pack to his face. It turned out that Lois knew how to make a punch extend from one's mouth to one's eye. It was already swelling.

Lois' eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "What are you talking about Ollie?"

Oliver shrugged but said nothing. Lois was prepared to dig into him for more information about his cryptic advice but her manicurist and hairstylist had arrived. It was crunch time.

"Do me a favor Ollie and take Clark's tux to him. He's probably in the loft since I took over his bedroom. I asked them to include two extra dress shirts for him because he has a tendency to spill things. You can use one of the extras. Oh, and I'm really sorry about your face," she said, her apology genuine. "Hate to cut our Hallmark moment short," she crowed excitedly, slinging her dress over her arm, "but it's time for me to get gorgeous!"

Without a backward glance, Lois took off up the stairs with the manicurist and hairstylist in tow.

"Hate to break it to you Lo," Oliver called up the stairs, "but you're always gorgeous." He smiled. It felt right to tease and joke around with her like they'd been buddies for years. The next thing he knew a bunny slipper was flying down the stairs, hitting him smack in the forehead.

"Speak for yourself, Ollie," Lois cried, laughing, knowing the bunny had hit its mark.

"You know," he shouted, his voice clearly teasing, "if being friends with you gives you license to pummel me all the time I might want to reconsider!"

"You do that!" She joked, knowing that her earlier doubts about them maintaining a friendship were just her abandonment issues rearing their ugly heads. They would do just fine. Her laughter was musical.

Oliver dashed out of the way as another bunny slipper came soaring in his direction. Lois cackled good-naturedly and heard him head out to the loft, most certainly to find Clark and present him with his tux.

Lois actually giggled, something she rarely did. She was going to come downstairs looking totally smoking hot, mostly for Chloe's wedding, but also for Clark. Maybe, just maybe, he would notice her a little differently today. _A girl can only hope!_

_God what this guy can do to you Lane! Stop being so girly about the whole thing and get your head together! _She attempted to sober herself without any luck and let the manicurist and hairstylist do their thing.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: The characters from Smallville do not belong to me. They belong to the CW. Superman does not belong to me either. I'm just using everything for a creative outlet.

Rating: K for now, M later

**Author's Note: Thank you for all of your wonderful feedback.

The Moment He Knew

Chapter 3 – Mischievous Meddlers

Oliver's P.O.V.

Once Oliver knew that the bunny slipper assault level had gone from red to green, he readjusted the ice pack on his face, grabbed Clark's tuxedo and headed to the loft in the Kent barn. Upon arrival, he had to admire the elegant and magical vibe that Lois had been going for and had managed to beautifully pull off. He smiled a little sadly, briefly wondering if he'd ever get the chance to watch a bride walk down the aisle toward _him_ to say 'I do'. It was a fleeting thought though.

Walking up the stairs to the loft, he found Clark staring out at the Kansas landscape, his back tense as his palms weighed heavily on the wooden window sill.

"Hey Clark," Oliver greeted, quietly, palming the ice pack. He didn't think it wise to sneak up on someone with enough super power to easily rip the barn to bits when caught by surprise. He knew a blonde and a brunette that would be infuriated if that happened and he'd already been assaulted by one of them that day. He didn't know if his face could take another beating, this one from the Bride. If it was one thing Lois and Chloe had in common, it was those wily and somewhat violent Lane genes flowing through their pretty little veins.

"Oh," Clark said, turning around to greet his friend. He wasn't surprised, but his face was tense and introspective, "Hi, Oliver. What can I do for you?"

He was so distracted he didn't even notice Oliver's battered face right away.

"Just came to drop this off," Oliver extended the garment bag containing the tuxedo, and reapplied the ice pack to his wounds.

"Thanks Oliver," Clark said, taking the garment bag and draping it over his arm. "I promise that waiting to track Lex is the right thing to do. If he's alive, we'll find him."

"You made me realize that, Clark. Is that what's got you so melancholy? Lex?" Oliver was curious – Clark rarely second-guessed his decisions when it came to the League lately.

"Melancholy?" Clark questioned, this time surprise was evident on his chiseled features. Oliver gave him a keen eye roll, as if the blonde billionaire didn't know him better.

"I'm not melancholy," Clark insisted, looking away from his friend. Finally noticing, his head twisted sharply back to Oliver as he eyed the ice pack pressed against his eye, cheek, and lip, "What happened to your face?"

"Well you certainly aren't all puppies and sunshine. What's going on?" Oliver ignored the inquiry about his face and stuck on task. He was growing concerned.

"You didn't answer my question?" Clark demanded, his face briefly changing from brooding to trepidation.

"You didn't answer mine," Oliver countered, playing a bit of hardball.

"I asked first," Clark pointed out, surly.

"Hurricane Lois," Oliver conceded without dishing any of the details, and quickly returned to the original matter at hand. "Out with it Kent. What's wrong?"

Clark didn't answer for a long while, but eventually admitted, "I'm being really stupid and selfish right now. This isn't how I'm supposed to be on my best friend's wedding day. I'm happy for her, _and_ Jimmy, I swear, I really am, but I can't …" Clark trailed off, looking thoroughly defeated.

"What is it Clark? I'm your friend and I know you better than most people, which _is_ a privilege by the way – you should know you can talk to me." Oliver's tone was cautious yet apprehensive.

"I guess I'm wondering if I'll ever end up having my own barn house wedding here," he shook his head as if it would rid him of this musing, but seeing as the look of defeat had not faltered, Oliver guessed it was unsuccessful. "It wasn't too long ago that I thought it might actually happen for me . . ."

"With Lana?" Oliver queried delicately, already knowing the answer.

"Well . . . yes." Clark admitted, but his face had changed. If possible he looked even more miserable than before. "Looking at all of this," he said, gesturing toward the decorations, "I know now that even if Lana hadn't left I'd still never have the "dream" wedding that Lois has pulled off for Chloe and Jimmy. The truth is there's nothing but loneliness in my future whether I have feelings for someone or not."

"You shouldn't think that way Clark," Oliver told him, capriciously deciding to play the devil's advocate. "There's someone out there for everyone," he paused for effect. Again, delicately broaching the subject, he asked, "What if Lana came back for you?"

"It wouldn't matter," Clark revealed, to Oliver's surprise. "I wanted Lana for a long time because I was lonely and she was everything a man could want – the ideal woman. I thought she was my soul mate, but things were always so complicated between us all the time, even when she knew my secret. Now that she's gone, in hindsight, I realize that all the time I was with her I still felt alone. She's not the one for me after all."

Oliver nodded, "So Lana's not the girl for you . . . does that have to mean there's not someone else out there who's perfect for you? Someone you could share your secret with who would make you feel whole _and_ not alone?"

"You sound like my mother," Clark stated, sharply.

"Last I checked, sounding like Martha Kent is a very nice compliment," Oliver smirked.

Clark glared, then sighed, apparently expelling all negative thought with the CO2, and flashed his friend a dazzling Kent smile, "Unfortunately, it doesn't matter either way because I don't have time to think about things like that right now Oliver. I've got a wedding to prepare for. Thank you for listening though. It helped me focus on how happy I really am for Chloe and Jimmy."

"Any time, I guess," Oliver said and meant it. He was not used to being close to people, let alone having them confide their deep, dark secrets to him. Yes, he knew all about the Clark Kent from Krypton but he'd never had an occasion to seriously delve into the psyche behind the 'Man of Steel.' Though admittedly they were becoming closer friends, he never looked much beyond the Justice League. Romance wasn't something he often thought about if he was to keep focus on saving the world. He wasn't that guy who someone turned to for support, and yet, here he was, doing just that. Clark Kent 'the man' seemed to be rubbing off on him. "Oh hey! Lois had the formal wear company include a couple extra dress shirts for you because, and I quote, "Clark has a tendency to spill things." She told me I could use one since the one I have on now is bloody."

"Okay," Clark said, unfazed by the mention of Lois' criticism. He started digging through the garment bag and returned with a crisp white dress shirt. Oliver grabbed the clean shirt and changed quickly.

"No comment on Lois' crack at you?" Oliver asked, wondering if Clark had even heard him.

"It's the truth. Lois probably knows me better than anyone right now, including my super human ability to make a mess of myself," Clark explained off-handedly.

"You need anything else Kent?" Oliver asked, just in case.

"No, I'm all good now," Clark replied, genially.

"I have a couple of errands to run before the wedding, so I'll see you later," Oliver told him, exiting the way he came.

Knowing that Clark possessed super hearing, Oliver waited until he got into his car, a good thousand feet away from the barn, before he made the call.

"Olsen? It's Oliver Queen. Up for a bit of mischievousness before your nuptials?"

~*~

Jimmy's P.O.V.

Jimmy's eyes narrowed in interest, "What do you mean Oliver?"

"I hear you've been trying to play cupid for a certain hard-headed farm boy and stubborn star reporter at the Daily Planet for some time now," Oliver sounded amused on the other end of the line.

"Lois and C.K.?" Jimmy's eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he wondered why Oliver Queen, of all people, would care. "Yeah, I've been trying to hook them up for quite awhile, but so far it hasn't borne any fruit," Jimmy told him, summarizing his attempts at making a love connection between his bride's cousin and his best man.

"Well, I've got the arrows," Oliver said, impishly. "Any chance you want to try some last minute wedding Eros action on our stubborn lovebirds?"

"I'm _totally_ in. What do you have in mind?" Jimmy asked, eagerly.

"Where are you?" Oliver asked, thinking that, around this time in the game, he should already be _there_, where the wedding was to take place.

"The Talon," Jimmy answered, embarrassed and worried the day would go all wrong because of his blunder.

"Thought the groom wasn't supposed to see the bride before the wedding," Oliver said curiously.

"I forgot my bow tie, and she isn't dressed yet, so technically it doesn't count," Jimmy replied, still a little worried that he'd jinxed his wedding.

"You know, Lois would have a shit fit if she knew you were there, right?" Oliver reminded him.

"I'm aware," Jimmy said, a bitter taste in his mouth at the thought of Lois finding out where he was. "Back to Lois and Clark," Jimmy segued, attempting to shunt the subject, "what did you have in mind?"

"Meet me at the Kent Farm in the kitchen. While you're en route I have a covert op to complete," Oliver explained.

"See you in twenty," Jimmy said, tone brisk. He made haste to his car, started the ignition, and was on his way, wondering vaguely what he was getting himself into.

~*~

The Kent Farm

Jimmy met Oliver in the Kent kitchen as promised. Apparently, the "covert op" Oliver had needed to complete had gone off without a hitch.

"Hey Olsen," Oliver greeted the groom, "you made good time."

He motioned for the groom to follow him into the family room, a much quieter and far less populated locale in the Kent house.

"You intrigued me," Jimmy responded, following him. "Besides, I'd do anything to see my friends happy. Does that "covert op" you mentioned on the phone have anything to do with the current non-photo-op condition of your face?"

Oliver waved his hand in front of his face dismissively and shook his head. "Back to the project at hand, Olsen. I'm glad to hear we're on the same page," he said, nodding to one long, rolled up sheet of paper, another sheet of paper that was about medium-length, and yet one more that was only slightly shorter than the latter.

"What're those?" Jimmy inquired, inquisitive as always.

Without answering, Oliver unrolled the long sheet of paper. It was the seating chart for the reception. Following in tradition, Lois had herself seated next to the bride since she was in the wedding party, as was Clark, who was seated beside Jimmy.

"How did you get a hold of these, Oliver? Lois must have had these and all the other wedding whatnot under lock and key."

"I'm just that good," Oliver smiled, a little cocky, his lip re-splitting for millionth time. "It's best that you don't know the details. In fact, the less you know the better you fare against Lois once she sees that things have changed."

Jimmy gulped and nodded, "What kind of changes are we talking about here? In Chloe's interest I may have to veto any changes that might jeopardize her perfect day."

"Good man," Oliver smiled at him with approval, not caring about the sting it caused his face. "Don't worry, I'm not suggesting anything drastic."

"What _are_ you suggesting?" Jimmy demanded.

"Anything and everything that will put Lois and Clark unavoidably in each other's orbit all day," Oliver explained. "For example, what if you and Chloe sat at the wedding party table by yourselves? We could seat Lois and Clark at a small table next to you and Chloe so it's clear they're in the wedding party too, but far enough away that they can't avoid conversation."

"Brilliant," Jimmy smiled. "The wedding isn't big so it'll be easy to push them together often. If they look at each other in formal wear any way near the way they do in regular clothing, Lois will be catching the bouquet and the next wedding we attend will be a Lane-Kent affair."

"My own thoughts precisely," Oliver concluded. "Of course, the bulk of our plan has to be carried out by me because I wouldn't want you to neglect your bride on the happiest day of your life, but I think we'll make great partners."

Jimmy held out his hand and Oliver shook it.

"Part of my plan includes a few last minute uninvited guests," Oliver informed the groom," pointing at the shorter sheet of paper which happened to be the list of people who would be attending the formal affair. "I checked the list of invitees against the list of R.S.V.P.s, and there's room if you'll allow it."

"It'll help bring Lois and Clark together?" Jimmy questioned, an eyebrow cocked in mild-mannered suspicion.

Oliver nodded, conspiratorially.

"Okay then. I'll just notify the staff of the changes in the seating arrangements and the additions to the guest list so Mrs. Henney will have enough food prepared," Jimmy informed his partner in crime, "but I'd make sure that seating chart and those guest lists make it back to where they came from in case Lois decides to check."

Oliver nodded in agreement, putting his fingertips together and tapping them a few times, feigning an evil grin, "_Excellent_."

Jimmy chuckled and went about his business.

~*~

Oliver's P.O.V.

Everything was working to his advantage. He'd even managed to get members of the Justice League invited for extra protection, just in case Lex really was alive and decided a wedding would be the perfect opportunity to exploit his knowledge of Clark Kent's otherworldly secret.

Playing cupid instead of the Green Arrow was a lot easier and a lot more fun. He re-rolled the reception seating chart carefully, making it look exactly as it had before it had fallen into his hands.

"Better watch out guys," he said to himself and an unaware Lois and Clark, "because by the time I'm done with you, you won't know what hit you."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: The characters from Smallville do not belong to me. They belong to the CW. Superman does not belong to me either. I'm just using everything for a creative outlet.

Rating: K for now, M later

**Author's Note: I'm loosely basing this story on the episode "Bride" as I'm sure you've already figured out. That being said, there are parts in "Bride" that I think need to make an appearance in the story, though they may not be in the order they originally occurred in in the actual episode. Also, thanks again for all your wonderful feedback!

The Moment He Knew

Chapter 4 – Nostalgia Revelation

Lois' P.O.V.

An hour after she'd abandoned Project: Bunny Slipper Missile and heard Oliver head out to the loft to present Clark with his tux, Lois was admiring the beautiful job the manicurist had done with her finger and toe nails. She'd decorated them with tiny tangerine colored flowers similar to the ones in the bouquets which also matched the tangerine-colored part of her dress. Then she'd utilized the darker russet, burgundy-orange color of the rest of her dress as the French tip on all twenty digits. The hairstylist was just about to do her thing – a simple, elegant, no-nonsense up-do that would take about 20 minutes to complete – when Lois received a call from Chloe.

"Hello?" Lois answered, even though she knew from the caller-ID who it was.

"Lois, I need you here! Now!" A highly troubled Chloe shrieked.

"Calm down, Chlo," Lois soothed, wanting to get to the heart of the matter as quickly as possible so she could finish getting ready. She wasn't _at all_ the super smoking hot she thought she would be at this point, and if the bride was having a touch of cold feet, she worried she'd never get there. "Where are you?"

"In the loft," Chloe told her, voice full of apprehension. "You have to get here now!"

"I'm on my way." Despite her timing, Lois was glad that her cousin was finally showing some sign of pre-wedding jitters. It had been downright abnormal for someone to be so serene when approaching one of the most life-altering of days in a person's existence. She was also glad that her toe nails were perfectly dry. Slipping on a pair of flip-flops, she made her way out to the barn. Though she was traveling at a brisk walk, she couldn't help but admire the decorations that had turned the Kent farm into dream-wedding central.

Luckily for Jimmy and Oliver, Lois did not notice that the seating arrangements had been slightly altered when she entered the barn and headed up the stairs that led to the loft. She parted the shiny, opalescent curtains that kept Chloe hidden from those who were not to see her before her walk down the aisle. She found her cousin in a frightful state – her hands were shaking and she looked genuinely distressed.

"Chloe, what's wrong?" Lois asked, gently, not wanting to aggravate her cousin any further.

"I didn't think, Lois!" Chloe exclaimed, her voice a bit shrill, and _very_ loud, for the petite blonde. She threw her hands up in the air, the stress coming off of her in waves.

"What's going on?" Clark demanded, a note of worry in his calming, honey-toned voice as he made his way through the curtains himself. He was still clad in his blue T-Shirt and jeans, which served to annoy the _hell_ out of Lois.

"I was just about to find that out when _you_ came in, Smallville," she snipped at him, using the usually affectionate name she used for him like it was a dirty word, a glare molding her features for the first time in hours. "Shouldn't you be in your tux by now?"

Clark returned her glare, "Shouldn't you be in your _dress_? For that matter, shouldn't your hair and makeup be _done_ by now?"

"I was getting to that before the bride decided to have a total _meltdown_!" She cried, her annoyance with him clear in her tone.

"For your information, spider monkey on speed," Clark growled, using the affectionate nickname more as a grenade to launch from an arsenal, which she actually thought was really sexy, "it seems I have an affliction which causes me to spill things on myself, so I thought it would be safer to wait until closer to the wedding to change into my tux since I'm one extra shirt short due to 'Hurricane Lois'."

He had a fire in his eyes that was generally there when they were bickering, but it was more intense, like an inferno; in fact, she was sure her eyes were reflecting the exact same fire as his at the moment and the loft seemed to broil with gruff sexual tension. When their eyes actually met, the air thickened with the heat of their unspoken desire for each other. Cutting through the tension as though she possessed a butter knife, Chloe squeaked in distress. This, of course, brought all the attention back to the bride, who was still suffering from an unknown malady.

Her squeak acted like a hypnotist snapping his fingers and bringing Lois and Clark out of their state of hypnoses. They broke eye contact and Clark pulled a Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde, effectively erasing any tension in the room but the bride's. He knelt in front of Chloe and all the hardness in his face instantly disappeared, leaving nothing but breathtaking, brilliant signature Kent smiles as he approached his best friend. Taking her hand as though it were glass, he placed a finger under Chloe's chin, tipping her head up to meet his gaze. When he'd brought her face up to where he could look into her eyes, he sympathetically asked, "What's the matter, Chlo?"

Her hands stopped shaking and her breathing regulated as she looked into Clark's baby blues. Then she smiled and stood up as though her panic-attack had never occurred. She hugged Lois, hugged Clark and sat down again. "Well . . .," she said meekly, almost as though she was ashamed of herself, "I forgot something."

"What did you forget, cuz?" Lois queried, glad that the atmosphere was once again amiable and serene. She had no idea why she'd earlier been pleased that her beloved cousin had started to freak on her wedding day.

"I have something new, something blue, and something old but nothing borrowed!" Chloe told them. After a moment's pause, she seemed to regain her sense of self fully and chittered excitedly as she came up with an idea to fix her problem.

"A-ha!" She beamed in triumph. "When in trouble leave it to Clark Kent to get you out of a jam," she sang, gesturing toward her best friend. "Let's see what we have here."

Without asking and before Clark could say or do anything to stop her, Chloe started rifling through Clark's things until she found the lead box full of Kryptonite he'd hidden in a drawer in his desk. She opened the box with a flourish and the Kryptonite started to glow being so near a Kryptonian.

"Ha!" Chloe grunted with satisfaction.

"What are you doing?" Clark asked, moving backward and looking and feeling sick from the Kryptonite exposure.

"How about you carry your piece of Smallville's finest meteor rock down the aisle?" Chloe grinned.

Lois was about to ask Clark if he was feeling well when he piped up, "Hey, why don't you put that away. I have a better idea."

He backed further away as his best friend closed the box and set it aside, and reached into the middle of a pile of books lying on top of an old trunk. He pulled his hand out, clutching his copy of the Smallville High Crow's yearbook, his and Chloe's freshman year edition, and opened it to reveal a beautiful preserved white flower that appeared to be a rose. He presented it to Chloe.

With a puzzled look on her face, Chloe accepted the flower as Clark, a small smile on his face, explained, "You gave that to me freshman year at the Homecoming dance."

"And you kept it all this time?" Chloe asked in wonder, touched by the sentiment.

"I never throw away good memories," he said, pleased, his smile wider now. He shared a private glance with Lois, who thought she'd melt into a puddle at his sweet gesture.

"Thanks, Smallville. Another pre-wedding fire put out," Lois smiled, almost wistfully, and nodded. Looking to Chloe, she asked, "If you're all set . . ."

Chloe acknowledged that she was, indeed, all set, so Lois turned her attention to Clark, ". . . you and I have to vamoose. It's almost time and you and I have a show-down to get ready for."

Without really looking at him again, Lois started down the stairs and headed back to Clark's bedroom to finish getting ready. It was the hardest two hundred foot walk of her life, seeing as her knees had turned to Jell-o.

She took a seat in the chair before the vanity and the hairstylist started to sculpt Lois' locks into the style they'd discussed over coffee a few days ago. Reflecting back to what had just transpired in the Kent barn, she wondered about herself and her reactions. For the life of her, she had no idea why she had picked a fight with Clark. _So he wasn't in his tux yet, what was the big deal?_ They had a whole hour and a half before the wedding, and everything, her getting ready issues aside, was going smoothly, as planned, and on schedule. Maybe she just couldn't wait to see him in it, and seeing him _not_ in it had frustrated her since she'd had an image of him wearing it dancing through her head ever since the clothing had arrived.

_Crap! I'm definitely going to crack!_

And, had she really detected what she thought she had? Had there really been super intense sexual tension between them when they'd locked eyes during their squabble? It had certainly felt like it. She wondered what would have happened if Chloe hadn't been there as a buffer. Would they have kissed? Would they have done more than kiss? Or, would they have just stayed planted where they stood, staring each other down with nothing but sex on the brain? She didn't know the answers to any of those questions. She didn't even know if anyone else had noticed, i.e., Clark. Chloe had been too worried about her 'something borrowed' to even perceive the quarrel going on around her. As far as Lois knew, Clark viewed her as nothing more than a very good friend and co-worker who just happened to be his best friend's cousin, but she could have sworn for just a second that he'd looked at her the way she looked at him when she was sure he wasn't paying attention.

And, seriously, what was with the Jekyll & Hyde bit? He'd swapped emotions so quickly he'd made her head spin. First he was all sexy and fiery and angry with her, then, with no warning, he'd been all sexy and sweet and caring with Chloe. With personality changes like that, assuming of course that the sexual tension had been real, for all she knew he could be the red-blue blur for crap-sake!

And, had she imagined his reaction to the meteor rock? When Chloe had opened up that metal box and shoved it in Clark's direction it was almost like he'd gotten sick or something. At the very least, he was definitely acutely uncomfortable with the shard from outer space, which begged the question _why keep it around?_

But what she'd most thought about was what he did after he'd debunked Chloe's 'something borrowed' being his very own meteor rock. Pulling out his high school yearbook had seemed odd to her before he opened it and presented the preserved rose to her cousin. The pure sweetness and genuine sentiment of the flower itself and the unique act of saving that flower spoke volumes of the man that he was and the man he would become. From that simple gesture she knew that he would never leave her behind even if he _was_ the red-blue blur, _not_ that she thought he was. It had made her fall head over heels for Clark Kent all over again. He was the kind of man she could only dream of ending up with, and she often did just that.

Earlier, she'd asked Chloe when she'd known that Jimmy was 'the one.' Her cousin had reassured her by saying, "Lois, don't worry, when you meet your super stud, you'll know."

It was in that pure, sweet, simple flower of a moment that she knew. She recalled speaking with Mrs. Kent a long while ago about finding the right man – her Jonathan. It was in this reflective moment that she figured it out – _Clark_ was her Jonathan. It would just take a little while before Clark realized that she, Lois Lane of all people, was his Martha.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from Smallville. They belong to the CW. I did not create Superman and, again, own nothing related there of.

*****Before you read: I've edited all the previous chapters – some because of grammatical errors, some just to make more sense and fill in what was already there to make it better and others to please those that have given me wonderful feedback!

Rating: K for now, M later

**Author's Note: Thank you for all your wonderful feedback.

The Moment He Knew

Chapter 5 – The Moment He Knew

Clark's P.O.V.

"Smallville, chop, chop! Let's go! We can't have a wedding without an escort to give the bride away!" Clark heard Lois descending the stairs, her heels clacking on the old hardwood. He came in from the next room, frustrated and flustered, with his father's cuff links in his large hand.

Looking a quarter of the way up the stairs to where Lois was perched, his breath hitched and time froze as he took her in. His eyes roved over her stunning body in the tangerine and burgundy-orange bridesmaid dress that fell just above her shapely knees. Her dark locks were pinned back in an elegant, but not over the top, up-do, bangs feathered to the left side of her face. Her makeup was perfection, not too neutral and not too overdone, exquisitely framing her gorgeous hazel eyes. Her luscious lips were a shiny light pink that brought the whole look together in a dark-locked, picture perfect, chic way.

It was as if he'd never seen her before; or, more accurately, it was as though he'd been living the past four and a half years of his life with atrocious vision and he'd just put on the glasses he'd so desperately needed for the very first time. Everything was crystal clear and he gasped as the world, sparkly and new, presented itself to him in the form of one Lois Lane.

_How have I never noticed how truly breath-taking Lois is?_ Trying desperately to breathe, but failing miserably, he met her soft eyes and something inside him clicked into place. A far-off, but not unfamiliar, voice resonated quietly in the forefront of his mind, "I'll be there when you figure out how you _really_ feel about her."

Oliver had been right from the first moment he'd encountered Lois and Clark in the same room, his fancy loft, together all those years ago. His thoughts were vividly sharp, yet eerily hazy as he recalled something about how he'd barricade his true feelings behind sarcasm as well if he lived under the same roof as such a beautiful woman.

_Why didn't I notice it _then? Only one excuse made its way to the surface – he'd been _so_ blindly, _so_ unquestioningly in love with Lana Lang, _so_ positive that _she_ was the one he was meant to be with that he had _disastrously_ failed to grasp what was _right_ in front of him.

He remembered how lonely he had felt when Lois had disappeared from the Daily Planet to plan her cousin's wedding, how much he'd missed their barbed yet underlyingly good-natured banter, how easy it was for him to just _be_ when she was sitting in the seat across from him.

When had he _stopped_ thinking of her as an annoying giant thorn in his side placed on this earth just to antagonize him? When had he _started_ to see her as sassy, though that was something she'd always been, in a good, adorable way? When had she become the talented, charming woman whose sense of humor typically always knocked him on his ass? When had she become so classy; yet, in spite of that, always get herself into the kind of trouble the red-blue blur had to save her from, and still be capable, at the same time, of packing her own punch? Why hadn't he figured out that she had _always_ been there for him, especially when the perfect, soul mate he thought he'd had in Lana, had abandoned him? How could her brilliance, her remarkable independence and beauty have escaped his notice for _such_ a long time? How could it have escaped him at _all_?

He could see her now, clearly, for the very first time. He could see the well of strength at her core, the one that had kept her pumping on all four cylinders, kept her undeniably Lois Lane, despite the many and varied obstacles that had been thrown in her way her entire life. He could see the incredible woman she had always been, and the one that she'd become.

He reveled in it all as he stared into the depths of her liquid hazel eyes but realized that as he gazed at her in newfound wonder, she was looking at him strangely. In that moment, he had to use all his strength, both human and super, to move. All the power the yellow sun gave him, all the strength that his human parents had built up in him all the years he'd been apart of their family, served to only shuffle his feet a bit in a self-conscious manner and move him hardly an inch.

She let out a breath that it appeared she'd been holding, gave him an excruciatingly slow once-over, blinked rapidly, nodded to herself and said, "Looks like you're ready."

The fluid but sexy rasp of her velvety voice had him glued to his spot on the wood floor as if he'd been paralyzed by the strongest of Kryptonite. He managed to break eye contact and swore he would burn holes in the floor with his heat vision as he gaped down at it, readying himself for the effect she would have on him when he looked at her again.

He nervously managed a smooth response, though he could swear that his voice was quaking, "I'd have it all under control except for these cuff links . . . They were my dad's and I've never had to put them on before."

She seemed to glide toward him at his admission.

"Well, I guess you don't have much need for cuff links when you have a whole closet full of flannel shirts, huh, Farmer John," she replied, her tone soft, as she tucked herself close enough to his body to offer help.

"Big city boy, let me give you a lesson," she lilted in sympathy rather than a deprecating tone. "You just have to make sure this part sticks up straight, and then it slides right in."

Her closeness and choice of words, again, had him rooted to the spot. She smiled and gazed up at him through her perfectly mascaraed lashes, her features betraying the slightest bit of awkwardness at the dirty-sounding words that had escaped her lips. She was embarrassed and it took a second before she moved just a step out of his orbit.

He inhaled deeply at the mild sexual insinuation of his cuff link lesson and took in a smell that was innately Lois. It was a mixture of sweet pea and "Rockin Rio'," by Escada, a perfume he knew was her favorite from his many months sitting across from her at work. The combination of the two scents was a perfect match for the colors of her dress.

Trying to salvage herself, she glanced up at him briefly, eyes only a tiny bit wide. She laughed at herself, an abrupt affair, and said, "The ring? You can give that to Jimmy when the minister signals and here are his vows . . . in case he forgets."

Clark took the vows from her and listened as she turned away from him and pushed out an uneasy breath. Her back to him, and her affect on him momentarily disabled, he thought he'd take a look at what Jimmy had in store for Chloe when it came time to say 'I do.'

"It's really hard for me to . . . to put my feelings into words, but from the moment we met, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you," Clark read aloud, amazed by the beauty and simplicity of Jimmy's vows.

Lois whipped around to face him, tears in her eyes and a hopeful smile on her face.

Attempting with every shred of his being not to get wrapped up in her again, he said, "Jimmy's vows . . . they're really sweet."

It looked like disappointment decorating her divine features when he looked at her and he frowned to see such beauty marred by such a cruel emotion.

Lois smiled again, this time uncertain, but she recovered herself quickly, "Yeah, he's a regular Cyrano."

He smiled back at her, his own lips uncertain. What was it that he was seeing on her lovely face? He couldn't figure it out and the more he looked at her, the more he started to lose himself in her _again_. This time his smile was confident, not for his sake, but to try to instill the sentiment in her. It was then that the videographer approached the two of them and they were no longer alone.

"Hey! Guys," he said, positioning the camera. "How about a testimonial before the ceremony?"

Clark didn't know whether to be relieved that he could breathe normally again or super-tap the guy on the forehead, knocking him unconscious, and leaving himself free to get lost in her once more. Ignoring the great impulse to do the latter, Clark turned toward the man instead. Lois followed his lead.

"Sure," he spat out, shortly, his impulse still threatening to take hold of him.

"Great," she agreed, her tone clipped. He also detected a note of disdain in her voice but he had no solid insight as to what that could possibly mean. _Did she _want_ to be alone with him?_ His heart leapt at the idea, giving him inspiration for his testimonial.

"Alright, now be yourselves . . . and just speak from the heart," the videographer coached them in a tone that neither one of them could discern to be casual or professional. He took a moment to reset the angle of the camcorder.

Clark was the first to speak, happy that his voice had not deserted him in Lois' presence; his words did come from the heart, "Jimmy! Chloe! I can't tell you how happy I am the two of you found each other. You're very lucky to be together. Look . . . Your wedding day is going to be perfect. I'm going to make sure of it!"

He ended his speech with one of his broad Clark Kent grins.

Lois, on the other hand, was nervous and fidgety at first, but played it off smoothly when she actually spoke, "Stop hogging the spotlight, Smallville."

She stepped in front of Clark so that she dominated the frame. Smiling, she attempted to pour her heart out on film for the sake of family, "Hey cuz, you know that I love you and I wish you and Jimmy long, happy years together . . . and remember what The General always says, 'Marriage is the only war where you get to sleep with the enemy.' You can edit out that last part, right?"

The videographer nodded at Lois' wince when she realized what the closing line to her speech had ended up being, and left them to catch more of the "pre-wedding buzz" on DVD.

Clark rolled his eyes, but, in the end, had to laugh at her. She turned around to give him some grief for making fun of her; however, before she had the chance, their eyes locked.

Clark felt himself falling hard and fast underneath her merciless gaze. Merciless as they may have started out to be, her eyes changed when she felt them lock with his.

_This_ was the moment he knew. Gazing into her eyes, he didn't feel the slightest bit lonely. For the first time since he could remember, he felt whole . . . and it wasn't Lana Lang standing in front of him, making him feel like he genuinely fit somewhere for the first time in his entire life – it was Lois Lane. _That_ was the moment he knew that Lois Lane was his soul mate, his 'true one,' the woman he was meant to be with, and for one joyful moment, he felt like he could fly.

It felt so real, as a matter of fact, he had to look down. Astonished, but completely at ease, he noticed he was floating two inches off the ground! Nudging himself a bit, he raised his body two more inches before he deliberately fell forward and made it look like he was the most enormous klutz on earth instead of a being from another planet flying on his own for the first time. He toppled over Lois, whose heels were planted firmly in place, and laughed the happiest laugh that could ever roll out of his super-powered lungs.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own neither Smallville nor Superman. They belong to people and companies far greater than I. The characters are just really fun to play with when borrowed.

SPOILER ALERT: This story is loosely based on "Bride." If you haven't seen this episode yet, I wouldn't read this until you have, unless you don't care.

Rating: K for now, M later

**Author's Note: Thanks for all the wonderful feedback and encouragement! A special thank you to Superlc529 for her willingness to beta my work – you're AWESOME!!!

The Moment He Knew

Chapter 6 – Wedding Surprises, Part One

Lois' P.O.V.

"Wow, Smallville," Lois scrutinized, miffed that someone could trip over his own two feet without actually being in motion. "Your birth parents must have had _clumsy_ written all over their double helixes. It's the _only_ way you could _possibly_ be such a disaster when your feet aren't even moving. I _swear_ if you fall walking Chloe down the aisle, you _will_ get that mouthful of stiletto this time, I _promise_!"

Clark had managed to land on his back, limbs splayed haphazardly across a large space of floor. He smiled up at Lois with bliss tugging up at the corners of his mouth, a carefree look in his eyes. Over the years Lois had seen a lot of different emotions play through those baby blues of his but she couldn't remember one single time they had reflected such joy and mirth. She had always seen him a little differently than anyone else. If one's eyes really were the windows to the soul, then she'd always seen the weight of the world on his shoulders. It was something you could only notice if you knew the _**real**_ Clark Kent, corn-fed farm boy extraordinaire. She'd seen it in his eyes the first time they'd met – not the naked amnesiac in the cornfield, but Clark Kent, son of Jonathan and Martha. For the life of her, she had no idea what that weight might be. Maybe it had to do with being adopted and never knowing his birth parents _– she_ couldn't be sure.

Despite her musings, she found his smile adorably infectious and returned it eagerly. He was so rarely joyful that she wanted to savor every second of his happiness. She held out her hand, hating to dampen his mood, and said, "Quit daydreaming and get your ass off the floor, Smallville! We have somewhere to be!"

Clark took her hand and let her help him up. He didn't _need_ her to help him, his ulterior motive only to feel her soft skin against his palm. "There's still a half an hour before the wedding and there's something I need to do," Clark replied, his tone secretive. "I'll meet you in the loft in a few minutes."

~*~

Clark's P.O.V.

Clark was never happier and sadder than he'd ever been before in his life. All he wanted to do at the moment was run straight to his best friend and tell her how he'd finally found his true love, which was entirely feasible; and, that he'd flown for the first time ever today, which was not feasible at all considering the fact that she no longer knew his secret. He knew that floating four inches off the floor wasn't technically considered flying if you looked the word up in the dictionary, but he_ did_ it! He had been the one to raise himself up those extra two inches and he _knew_ when all this craziness was over with, he'd be able to successfully experiment with it. He felt the power to do so rushing through his veins, adrenaline feeding his high and he wanted to share it with someone, but now was not the time. He had something important to do before he walked Chloe down the aisle.

Clark waited until he was sure Lois had gone before heading upstairs to the master bedroom. He knocked quietly and waited. A woman with dark hair opened the door just a crack, peeping outside to see who it was. She opened the door wider when she saw who it was and allowed him entrance.

"How are you?" He asked gently, trying to make sure she wasn't scared or confused or unhappy.

"I'm perfectly fine," the woman answered, her tone the epitome of calm. "I'm about to take my medicine. Is it time?"

"Yes," Clark told her, watching as she stuck a needle in her arm and emptied the contents of the syringe into her body. It saddened him to see her in this state, dependent on drugs to keep normal after everything she'd been through, beautiful as she might be. "You look stunning. Chloe will be ecstatic that you could make it."

"All thanks to you, Clark," she reminded him, love for him flowing through her veins, softening her heart as she thought about what he'd done for Chloe, and the pain and weariness it must have cost him to find her for this day. However, she set those feelings aside for the moment and focused on how happy she was for the bride. "Shall we? I don't want to keep the bride waiting."

Clark held out his arm like a proper escort and she slipped her slim wrist through as they made their way to the barn.

~*~

The Loft

"Lois? Chloe?" Clark called, cautiously, not wanting to spoil his surprise. "I know you're both in there since there's only fifteen minutes before the ceremony starts, but I have a surprise, a pre-wedding wedding gift of sorts," he explained, cryptically. "Lois I need you to cover Chloe's eyes and promise not to take your hands away until I say so.

Chloe, I know you'll try to look through Lois' fingers so you have to promise to close your eyes too."

"Fine Smallville," Lois called displeasure evident in her tone. "Just get in here already! The wedding is about to start!"

"Okay Clark," Chloe promised eager to see what her surprise was. If it was anything like the 'something borrowed' surprise, it would drive her crazy waiting to find out what this one was. Better to follow his instructions without complaint if she wanted to know what it was _sooner_ rather than later.

Still arm-in-arm, Clark led his companion through the opalescent curtains that shielded the wedding party, sans the groom, from view. When Lois saw who Clark had on his arm, her eyes went wide and she had to fight hard not to gasp in surprise.

"You can take your hands away now, Lois," Clark instructed, looking forward to seeing Chloe's reaction to this unexpected guest.

Chloe opened her eyes and was lost for words. Her bouquet tumbled to the ground as she stared in utter shock. When she finally found her voice, all she could manage to do was say one word…

"Mom?" she whispered, unable to believe her eyes. Right there in front of her stood a completely lucid Moira Sullivan dressed in a dark teal, silk gown that flowed to the floor with cap sleeves, a v-neck, and a braided silk tie-belt around the waist that left strips of the fabric to rest wherever they pleased. Her hair was longer since the last time she'd seen her before she'd gone away again, but it was lustrous and shiny, framing her face in delicate waves much like the ones framing Chloe's.

"Hi, sweetheart, my little cub reporter," Moira Sullivan cooed lovingly. Her daughter certainly was a sight. "You're so beautiful, honey. I'm so proud of you."

"Somebody pinch me," Chloe demanded, unsure if this was just a dream of her wedding day and not the real thing. Her mother reached out and caressed her arm in a reverent sort of way before pinching her gently.

"It's true, baby," Moira assured her, beaming, "I'm really here."

Chloe beamed back, so happy she couldn't contain herself. She hurled herself into her mother's arms, tears threatening to ruin her perfect wedding day makeup. Her mom squeezed her back, hard. Once they finally pulled apart, she turned her radiant smile _to_ Clark, "How did you . . .?"

"There isn't any time for questions right now, Chlo," Clark reminded her, turning his attention to Moira. "Mrs. Sullivan, there's an empty seat in the front row on the bride's side. I saved it for you. Can you make it there by yourself?"

"Yes, Clark," Moira reassured him, heading toward the curtains, "I'll be fine on my own." She stopped, briefly, before passing through them, "Just take care of my baby girl while you walk her down the aisle."

"I promise, she's in good hands," Clark told her, a confident smile on his face.

"I believe you," she informed him positively, smiling again. She and Chloe had the same infectious grin, and he found himself being pulled in by the both of them. He definitely had a weak spot for Lane women.

The next thing Clark knew, Chloe was throwing her arms around the tallest part of him she could reach, and gave him a bear hug so big for such a tiny person that he chuckled a little.

Chloe looked up at him, still beaming, tears still brimming in her eyes, and said, "I don't care how you did it, _at the moment anyway_, but thank you."

~*~

Lois' P.O.V.

Chloe wasn't the only one in the room struck dumb by Clark's surprise. Lois hadn't seen her Aunt Moira since about six months after her mother's funeral when she was only six. Her aunt had promised Lois that she would help her raise Lucy and act as a mother figure for the two of them because she knew how her brother Sam Lane would act. He'd institute some sort of chain of command system that would involve Lucy reporting to Lois and Lois reporting to their father and taking all the blame for her little sister's deviousness. She'd been right of course. Moira had kept her promise for the first few months after her mom died, which, essentially, was how she and Chloe had gotten so close; but after those few months were up, The General was ordered to Russia. Though he'd stayed away from his children for the first months after his wife's death, he'd insisted on bringing the girls with him on his new assignment. From what she understood, her aunt abandoned Chloe just weeks after The General had taken her and Lucy to their new ice kingdom of a home on the other side of the world.

Chloe had told her all about what had happened two years ago – about Lex and his experiments and what they had done to her mother. How he'd threatened to send her cousin somewhere far worse than prison if she exposed what he'd been up to, and how her mom had slipped back into a catatonic state to protect her only child. She'd disappeared to an unknown psychiatric facility, on account of Oliver and Clark, but neither Lois nor Chloe knew that the two Justice Leaguers were involved in it.

_Clark is just bursting with surprises, isn't he?_ She dared to sneak a peek at him and saw him smiling brilliantly at the mother-daughter reunion he was responsible for. The joy and freedom hadn't left his eyes or his sexy countenance, and she shook her head in disbelief, a smile of her own playing on her lips. Would he ever stop surprising her with his caring, his loyalty, the utter sweetness and compassion that made him who he was? There was no way she could know because every day he amazed her with another little tid-bit of sides of him that opened new doors inside her head in the mystery that was Clark Kent, though she might only get the most ephemeral of glances before they closed on her.

His gesture touched her so deeply; Lois thought that she would collapse with the magnitude of it. If he kept pulling stunts like these, she was a goner for sure. Truthfully, she knew that she was long past being a goner. _What is it, like the_ third_ time I've fallen head over heels for Smallville today?_ She wondered, darkly, exactly how many more times was she going to fall in love with Clark Kent before he noticed.

Tears glistened in her eyes as she thought about him and all he'd done for the people in his life. He truly was an amazing man, a man that she was truly, madly, deeply, and desperately in love with. However, _now is _not_ the time to pine!_

Pulling Chloe out of her choke hold on Clark, Lois fixed the tiny defects in her makeup before she descended the stairs to become Mrs. Jimmy Olsen.

Lois heard the music that was her cue to walk down the aisle, and huffed, trying to pull herself together. She made her way to the minister and Jimmy with a smile on her face, the picture of a delighted Clark, a beaming Chloe, and a wistful Aunt Moira imprinted in her memory.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own neither Smallville nor Superman. They belong to people and companies far greater than I. The characters are just really fun to play with when borrowed. I don't own the song "In My Arms," I presume it belongs to Plumb.

SPOILER ALERT: This story is loosely based on "Bride." If you haven't seen this episode yet, I wouldn't read this until you have, unless you don't care.

Rating: K for now, M later

**Author's Note: I must thank for helping me to find a beautiful ceremony with which to celebrate Chloe and Jimmy's love and for helping me with the song lyrics. The vows were all me though. Thanks for all the wonderful feedback and encouragement!

The Moment He Knew

Chapter 7 – The Wedding

Clark's P.O.V.

Clark picked Chloe's forgotten bouquet up off the Loft floor and handed it to Chloe. She shook it out and repaired any damage the bounce off the ground may have caused, including rearranging the dried rose of Clark's she'd borrowed.

Clark smiled and held out his arm for her to take, "Are you ready?"

Chloe was giddy happy and it was reflected in her returning smile at her best friend as she took his arm, gushing excitedly, "I've never been more ready for anything in my entire life!"

"I'm really happy for you Chlo," Clark told her, genuinely, his eyes alight.

Clark looked at his watch. He and Chloe were to begin the walk down the Loft stairs to the actual aisle precisely forty beats after Lois had disappeared through the opalescent curtains. 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . and off they went at an easy pace through the curtains and down the stairs. When they hit the bottom the music morphed into the classic wedding march and Clark led a glowing Chloe towards an equally glowing Jimmy, his eyes locking with Lois' as they glided patiently along the silk and white rose pedal covered barn floor.

Lois smiled when she saw her cousin and was impressed with herself for pulling off such a beautiful wedding when she caught Clark's eye, and neither could look away. It was almost as if it were their wedding because Clark saw all the love he felt for her shining in her hazel eyes as he and Chloe made their way toward her. It must have been her love for her cousin because Lois definitely wasn't in love with _him_. She didn't even really _like_ him, she just liked to drive him _crazy_ and now that he'd discovered how _he_ really felt about _her_, crazy was beginning to take on a whole new meaning.

Finally, Chloe and Clark reached their final destination and Clark broke eye contact with Lois long enough to smile widely at Jimmy.

The woman minister they had chosen from a very short list of ministers that would marry people in a non-religious ceremony stepped forward and began to speak in a rich, musical tone that fit the mood perfectly, "We are gathered here today to celebrate one of life's greatest moments, to give recognition to the worth and beauty of love, and to add our best wishes to the words which shall unite Henry James Olsen and Chloe Rose Sullivan in marriage.

"Should there be anyone who has cause why this couple should not be united in marriage, they must speak now or forever hold their peace."

Chloe and Clark stepped forward when no one said anything and Clark swore he heard a sigh of relief escape Chloe when the room remained silent.

"Who is it that brings this woman to this man?"

"I do," Clark said, releasing Chloe's hand to Jimmy's and stepping to Jimmy's side to take his place as best man.

"Chloe and Jimmy, I would ask that you both remember to treat yourself and each other with _respect_, and remind yourself often of what brought you together today. Give the highest priority to the _tenderness, gentleness_ and _kindness_ that your marriage deserves. When frustration and difficulty assail your marriage - as they do to every relationship at one time or another - focus on what still seems right between you, not only the part that seems wrong. This way, when clouds of trouble hide the sun in your lives and you lose sight of it for a moment, you can remember that the sun is still there. And if each of you will take _responsibility_ for the _quality_ of your life together, it will be marked by _abundance_ and _delight_. The bride and groom have decided to share their own handwritten vows . . . Jimmy," the minister nodded at the groom as a cue to begin.

Jimmy looked lovingly at Chloe, not a single nerve in his body on edge as he prepared himself to recite the words of love and devotion that had bubbled out of him and onto paper when he thought of the woman he loved.

Clark stole a glance at Lois as the minister had made her magnificent speech and, once again, their eyes locked. When Jimmy's voice erupted from him in a tone full of elation, it was like Lois was speaking to him.

"It's really hard for me to put my feelings into words," Jimmy began, "but from the moment we met, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Life is full of moments . . . moments that present us with opportunities for growth, for wisdom, for passion . . . moments that most people never recognize because they're so busy trying to live life the way society says it ought to be lived that they forget to pay attention to the little things . . . the moments that are so important. Being a photographer, it's my job to recognize those moments, the important ones, the life-changing ones and to capture them forever on film in a way that does them justice. It took me a few years after we initially met to recognize the most important moment in a _my_ life . . . well, a man's life really . . . the moment he realizes he's met his soul mate, which is exactly how I felt the moment we met _again_ when the earth was crumbling around us. I promise you, Chloe Rose Sullivan, that I will recognize the moments that we will share together as man and wife and I will cherish those important moments, those life-changing moments like a picture in my head and my heart, photographed in the most beautiful passionate way that my love for you allows me . . . It's those moments that will see us through the dark times, like little jewels of emotion and memory that will light our way as we find our way out of the darkness and shine bright as we remember those solitary moments that brought us here today to bind us forever in love and devotion . . . and those moments will stay forever with me as we grow old together."

Clark handed Jimmy the ring and he slipped it delicately onto Chloe's finger.

~*~

Lois' P.O.V.

Lois was very pleased with the woman minister's ceremonial words, the only thing that had been up in the air about the whole wedding. It had been difficult, at best, to convince the minister to even perform a non-religious ceremony, but in the end Clark had managed to charm her into it; however, she had made no promises about what her ceremonial speech would entail sans the religious component to anyone in the wedding party, preferring to just smile and possess a wicked sparkle in her eye during the rehearsal dinner. It had made Lois nervous, but what she'd said was beautiful and she couldn't help but steal a glance at Clark as the minister had completed her speech. What was meant to be only a private stolen moment ended up being a whirlwind of emotion as she met Clark's eyes and listened to Jimmy's vows to Chloe. The words were those she wished she could so desperately tell Clark, but standing there, eyes locked, it almost felt like she was telling him even if it was only through her eyes.

There wasn't a dry female eye in the crowd as Jimmy finished his vows. Now it was Chloe's turn, but Lois was still focused on Clark, and this time it felt like he was speaking to her through Chloe.

Tears rolled down Chloe's cheeks at the beautiful words Jimmy had crafted just for her, and she couldn't wait to tell him her own, "Jimmy," she started out, but choked on her tears of joy, "I always thought I knew what love was. I always thought I knew what it meant to be in love, I always _thought_ I knew everything and if I didn't I made sure I found _out_ . . . it's what you do when you're a journalist . . . but the _truth_ is, I've never been more _wrong_ about anything. I never really _knew_ the truth about love until you showed up at the Daily Planet on Dark Thursday and saved me with your dazzling Jimmy Olsen grin. I knew what it was to love as a _friend_, but _you're_ the one who taught me what love and being in love really is and what it really feels like . . . and I feel like I'm on top of the world because I know without a shadow of a doubt that _you_ are my soul mate . . . that whatever preconceived notions I had about love and the way it was supposed to be were truly and utterly false until you showed me the way . . . You're the one for me Jimmy Olsen . . . and I've _never_ been more happy in my _entire_ life than I am now with you, the man I _choose_ to grow old with because I _know_ that when we're both tiny and shriveled and gray, I'll still be_ just_ as happy and as _truly_ in _love_ as I am at this moment here with you as we bind ourselves together in love and devotion _forever_."

Lois gave Chloe Jimmy's ring, finally breaking eye contact with Clark, as her cousin slid it onto the groom's finger.

The woman minister started to speak again, "Chloe and Jimmy, as the two of you come into this marriage, uniting you as husband and wife, and as you this day affirm your faith and love for one another, I would ask that you always remember to cherish each other as special and unique individuals, that you respect the thoughts, ideas and suggestions of one another. Be able to forgive, do not hold grudges, and live each day that you may share it together - as from this day forward you shall be each other's home, comfort and refuge, your marriage strengthened by your love and respect for each other.

"Just as two threads woven in opposite directions will form a most beautiful tapestry, so too can your two lives merged together make a beautiful marriage. To make your relationship work will take_love_. This is the core of your marriage and why you are here today. It will take _trust_ , to know in your hearts that you truly want the best for each other. It will take _dedication_, to stay open to one another - and to _learn_ and grow together. It will take _faith_, to go forward together without knowing exactly what the future brings. And it will take _commitment_, to hold true to the journey you both pledge today to share together_._

"And now the bride and groom ask that you share in a unity candle ceremony with them to further celebrate their bond of marriage," the woman continued. Clark was responsible for lighting the candles, and he was so happy that he just couldn't resist. Staring at the taper candle wicks, he used his heat vision to light them, which caused a little thrill throughout the majority of the wedding guests and the minister, as if the pureness and heat of Chloe and Jimmy's love was enough to light the candles on its own.

"Chloe and Jimmy, the two separate candles symbolize your separate lives, separate families and separate sets of friends. I ask that each of you take one of the lit candles and that together you light the center candle."

Chloe and Jimmy lit the tangerine colored center candle together and carefully placed the matching tapers back in their holders.

"The individual candles represent your lives before today," the minister intoned. "Lighting the center candle represents that your two lives are now joined to one light, and represents the joining together of your two families and sets of friends to one.

"The bride and groom would also like to celebrate a very old ritual by completing a rose ceremony," the minister lilted. Lois, tears flowing down her cheeks despite herself, disentangled the lone tangerine colored rose that had been woven into the wedding arch on her side with shaky fingers as Clark did the same with the one on his, both at the ready to hand the bride and groom the flowers when it was time.

Chloe and Jimmy were both crying at this point.

"Your gift to each other for your wedding today has been your wedding rings - which shall always be an outward demonstration of your vows of love and respect; and a public showing of your commitment to each other.

"You now have what remains the most honorable title which may exist between a man and a woman - the title of "husband" and "wife." For your first gift as husband and wife, that gift will be a single rose.

"In the past, the rose was considered a symbol of love and a single rose always meant only one thing - it meant the words "I love you." So it is appropriate that for your first gift - as husband and wife - that gift would be a single rose. Please exchange your first gift as husband and wife while the song you have chosen plays for your honorable guests," the minister instructed, her voice still rich and musical to the ear. Chloe and Jimmy had chosen "In My Arms" by Plumb to exchange roses to.

Your baby blues  
So full of wonder  
Your Curly Que's  
Your contagious smile  
And as I watch  
You start to grow up  
All I can do is hold you tight  
Knowing

Clouds will rage in  
Storms will race in  
But you will be safe in my arms  
Rains will pour down  
Waves will crash all around  
But you will be safe in my arms

Story books  
Are full of fairy-tales  
Of kings and queens  
And the bluest skies  
My heart is torn just in knowing  
You'll someday see  
The truth for lies  
When the

Clouds will rage in  
Storms will race in  
But you will be safe in my arms  
Rains will pour down  
Waves will crash all around  
But you will be safe in my arms

Castles they might crumble  
Dreams may not come true  
Cause you are never all alone  
Cause I will always  
Always love you

Hey I  
Hey I  
Will love

Clouds will rage in  
Storms will race in  
But you will be safe in my arms  
Rains will pour down  
Waves will crash all around  
But you will be safe in my arms

In my arms

"In some ways it seems like you have not done anything at all," the minister continued after the song was done playing. "Just a moment ago you were holding one small rose - and now you are holding one small rose. In some ways, a marriage ceremony is like this. In some ways, tomorrow is going to seem no different than yesterday. But in fact today, just now, you both have given and received one of the most valuable and precious gifts of life - one I hope you always remember - the gift of true and abiding love within the devotion of marriage.

"Chloe and Jimmy, I would ask that where ever you make your home in the future - whether it be a large and elegant home - or a small and graceful one - that you both pick one very special location for roses; so that on each anniversary of this truly wonderful occasion you both may take a rose to that spot both as a recommitment to your marriage - and a recommitment that THIS will be a marriage based upon love.

"In every marriage there are times where it is difficult to find the right words.  
It is easiest to hurt who we most love. It is easiest to be most hurt by who we most love.  
It might be difficult some time to words to say "I am sorry" or "I forgive you"; "I need you" or "I am hurting". If this should happen, if you simply can not find these words, leave a rose at that spot which both of you have selected - for that rose then says what matters most of all and should overpower all other things and all other words. That rose says the words: "I still love you." The other should accept this rose for the words which can not be found, and remember the love and hope that you both share today.

"Chloe and Jimmy, if there is anything you remember of this marriage ceremony, it is that it was love that brought you here today, it is only love which can make it a glorious union, and it is by love which your marriage shall endure.

"Chloe and Jimmy, in so much as the two of you have agreed to live together in Matrimony, have promised your love for each other by these vows, the joining of your hands and the giving of these rings, I now declare you to be Husband and Wife.  
Congratulations, you may kiss your bride!"

Jimmy and Chloe entwined their arms around each other and kissed passionately, Jimmy even dipping her at the end to raucous whistles, happy whooping, and loud clapping. When they came up for air, they were all joyful smiles.

Lois and Clark both clapped for the newly-married couple, not quite sure what had happened between them during the vows and the rest of the ceremony. What both of them did know was that they were completely in love with the other, and the uncertainty of not knowing what had transpired between them in those few short minutes, left them both timid around each other.

Jimmy and Ollie were definitely going to have their work cut out for them.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I own neither Smallville nor Superman. They belong to people and companies far greater than I. The characters are just really fun to play with when borrowed.

SPOILER ALERT: This story is loosely based on "Bride." If you haven't seen this episode yet, I wouldn't read this until you have, unless you don't care.

Rating: K+ for now, M later

**Author's Note: Thanks for all the wonderful feedback and encouragement! Especially to Superlc529 – you ROCK!!!

The Moment He Knew

Chapter 8 – Wedding Surprises, Part Two

Chloe's P.O.V.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, join me in welcoming the newlyweds!" Lois encouraged into the microphone, as she and Jimmy emerged into the beautifully transformed wedding chapel turned reception hall that was the Kent Barn.

They just stood there for awhile smiling at everyone as they clapped for them, but Chloe wanted to introduce Jimmy to her mother so she dragged him over to her without telling him what she was doing.

"Chloe, where are we going? We've got a million guests to greet!" Jimmy pointed out as his new wife pulled him behind her.

"I've got someone very important for _you_ to meet," Chloe answered, all smiles. She stopped in front of a dark-haired woman a few inches taller than her, wearing a dark teal, silk gown that flowed to the floor with cap sleeves, a v-neck, and a braided silk tie-belt around the waist that left strips of the fabric to rest wherever they pleased. "Jimmy Olsen, meet Moira Sullivan, my mother."

Jimmy's eyes widened in shock as he took the woman in. Chloe never talked about her mother. The only thing he knew about her for certain was that she'd left Chloe when she was a small child and had been missing ever since. He smiled widely at Moira, extending his hand in greeting as he took in the resemblance between the two women. Chloe had her mother's eyes and heart-shaped face, as well as the same sparkling smile and cute button nose. Moira took Jimmy's hand and yanked him into a fierce hug.

"No need to be so formal Jimmy," Moira cooed as she tightened her arms around him, "We're family now."

"I'm so glad to meet you Mrs. Sullivan," Jimmy stammered, returning the hug and glancing at Chloe, who was glowing with delight. "I'm so happy you could be here today."

"So am I, Jimmy, so am I," Moira breathed, also glowing with delight. "I'm so happy to meet the man that is making my beloved daughter so happy. Your vows were absolutely beautiful . . . I know my little cub reporter chose the right man to spend her life with."

"Thank you, Mrs. Sullivan, that really means a lot," Jimmy smiled, as if he could get any happier that day now that he had her mother's approval.

"Please call me Moira, Jimmy," Moira requested before turning to Chloe. "Where's your father, sweetheart? I've looked and looked, but I don't see him anywhere."

Chloe's smile dampened a little at the mention of her father, whom she missed terribly, "Dad couldn't make it. He's in an undisclosed European location working with Uncle Sam. When he was fired from LuthorCorp, Uncle Sam managed to get him a civilian engineering contract with the Army, so he's been all over the place with Uncle Sam for the past few years," she explained. "We invited both of them and they really wanted to come, but apparently what they're currently working on is huge and they just couldn't get the time off. They made up for it by giving us our honeymoon as a wedding present, all expenses paid. After the reception we're off to Metropolis to stay in the honeymoon suite at the Metropolis Plaza, which is the ritziest hotel in the city, before we catch a flight to Aruba tomorrow morning for a glorious two week stay at their fanciest resort."

"That's wonderful honey," Moira basked, "I know you'll have a spectacular time."

Chloe's smile brightened again at her mother's words.

~*~

Lois' P.O.V.

Lois had followed Chloe and Jimmy with her eyes as her cousin dragged her new husband in the direction of her long lost mother. She watched her Aunt Moira pull Jimmy into a hug and decided that it was her turn to reacquaint herself with her aunt since there hadn't been time for it before the wedding.

"Aunt Moira!" Lois shrieked as she approached.

"Lois? Is that you, honey?" Moira questioned as she took in the woman that had been there when Clark had brought her up to the Loft to surprise Chloe before the wedding.

"It's me! I'm so happy to see you!" Lois gushed.

"My God, Lois Joanne Lane, you've developed into a drop dead gorgeous knock-out. I can't believe how beautiful you've turned out!" Her aunt shrieked just the same, throwing her arms around her niece. Moira, Lois, and Chloe all had the same excited shriek, down to the very same shrill note – it must have been a Lane thing, Jimmy observed. Lois noticed that Jimmy had decided to let the three women have some alone time for their reunion, probably certain he would have plenty of time to spend getting to know his mother-in-law. He went off to greet more wedding guests.

"Guess what?" Lois shrieked again, barely containing her excitement.

Her Aunt smiled at her and winked, a clear indication that she was waiting to hear her niece's exciting news.

"I work at the _Daily Planet___as a reporter now!" Lois divulged, pride in her voice.

"So you and Chloe work together then?" Moira assumed, remembering Clark telling her about Chloe's job at _The Planet_ before she'd gone back into her catatonic state.

"Actually, Mom," Chloe began, "I don't work at the _Daily Planet_ anymore. I run a treatment center and support group for the meteor infected called _The Isis Foundation_ in Metropolis now."

"Oh," Moira blinked in surprise, "That's great, sweetheart. It's nice to know that there's a safe place for people like that. Maybe I can help you run it," she suggested, happily. It would be fantastic to help those that suffered like she did.

Lois and Chloe both looked to their Aunt and Mother, respectively, in confusion.

"Does that mean you're cured?" Chloe asked her mother, trying to diminish the hope in her voice.

"Your charming friend Clark was able to find the last remaining batch of medication that LuthorCorp formulated to keep me lucid so I could be here for you on your wedding day, but he saved one vial and gave it to Oliver Queen. He has a research team developing their own version of it as we speak. If they're successful, then I'll be back for good," Moira explained.

"Oh my God!" Lois and Chloe shrieked together, jumping up and down in enthusiasm.

"Don't get your hopes us just yet, dears," Moira warned, saying it as much to herself as to her daughter and niece. "They may not be successful."

"Aunt Moira, if there's anyone who can replicate that serum it's Ollie," Lois beamed, completely convinced.

"So are they the only ones that get the red carpet welcome wagon rolled out or can I be included in this little family reunion as well?" A familiar voice spoke from behind them.

Lois and Chloe turned around to see none other than Lucy Lane, Lois' long lost sister.

"Lucy!" Lois crowed, all annoyance with her younger sibling obliterated for the occasion. She enveloped her little sister in an enormous hug and squeezed her as tightly as she could.

"Um, Lo," Lucy squeaked, "I can't breathe."

Lois let go immediately, smiling but not apologetic.

"Lucy Lane," Chloe smiled, putting her hands on her hips at the sight of her other cousin. "It's about time you showed your face around here. We've missed you."

Then she bounced toward her and hugged her just as tightly as Lois had.

"Um, again, Chlo," Lucy rasped, "I can't breathe."

Chloe also let go immediately, smiling not apologetic either.

"Lucy Lolita Lane, you mischievous little rug rat, you've grown into a beautiful young woman as well," Moira admired her youngest niece. She didn't show as much excitement to see the youngest Lane when she wrapped her arms around her but she was just as happy to see her as she was Lois, though she had a stronger bond with the older of the two. Moira knew that Lucy was a bit standoffish, she'd always been that way even when she was a child, and chose the more subtle approach when she hugged her because she didn't want to scare her away.

"Thanks, Aunt Moira," Lucy smiled, hugging her back. "It's good to have you back."

"It's good to be back," Moira admitted, her smile radiant. "Now I have all my girls together in one place. This is so much better than I could have possibly imagined or hoped for."

Lois was thrilled that at least some of their family had made it to the wedding. She was absolutely shocked to see her baby sister, dressed in a deep purple jersey mini-dress with a super-low cut drape neck, one thick black off-the-shoulder strap, and one thick black braided jersey on-the-shoulder strap, the top of her lacy black bra showing. Her milk chocolate colored hair was up like Lois' but her up-do was far more complicated. She polished off her look with a black satin choker that had a deep purple satin hibiscus flower positioned at the side of her neck, and black and deep purple satin heels with alternating black and purple ribbon criss-crossed all the way just below her knees and tied in perfect bows. She had, indeed, grown up into a beautiful young woman.

Lois took her eyes off her sister for a moment and peeked around for Clark, but couldn't find him. She couldn't believe he'd found the last batch of serum that was the only cure for her Aunt Moira. _How on earth did he find it?_ And, just like Clark, he'd given it to Oliver to mass produce the medication so Chloe could finally have her mother back for good. It was so sweet, her knees wobbled dangerously. Finally, she found him talking to Oliver in what appeared to be a heated discussion in a discreet corner of the barn. She wanted to sidle up to him and give him a hug and a kiss to thank him, but she didn't know how to act around him or if her voice would even work at being so close in proximity to him. She also wanted to thank Ollie, but that would have to wait until he was done speaking with Clark and was somewhere that was away from the object of her affection.

~*~

Clark's P.O.V.

Clark had watched Chloe introduce Jimmy to her mother, and smiled. For the first time in a long time he was glad he was Kryptonian. It had taken him a whole day of super-speeding and x-raying old 33.1 facilities for him to find the serum that could bring Moira Sullivan out of her catatonia, and he'd been lucky because all but one batch of the stuff had been destroyed either on purpose by Lex or because of one of The Justice League's explosive raids on 33.1 facilities during the last years. Speaking of The Justice League, Clark thought he'd just spotted Bart Allen helping himself to a handful each of the appetizers being carried around the room on silver platters by black and white bedecked servers. He searched around some more and spotted Victor Stone, in full monkey suit, talking a black-haired, dark-skinned woman whose back was turned to him. Arthur Currie, also in full monkey suit, was requesting a glass of water from one of the servers, and Dinah Lance was hanging on Oliver Queen's arm in the center of the room, wearing a backless and practically frontless, the drape v neck was so deep it reached halfway to her navel, buttercup yellow floor length gown, matching clutch, golden strappy heels, and her long brunette wig. Clark wasn't sorry to see any of them, but he was certain that they had not been on the guest list.

Clark ambled over to Oliver, "May I speak with you for a moment?"

"Of course," Ollie agreed, giving Dinah a look. She detached herself from his arm and began to mingle with the crowd of guests.

Clark motioned for Oliver to follow him to the corner of the barn that was least crowded, and politely asked, "What exactly are Bart, Victor, A.C. and Dinah doing here? Not that I'm not glad to see them."

"They're here because Jimmy invited them," Oliver stated, simply.

"The only person Jimmy knows out of the whole group is Dinah . . . he can't have invited people he doesn't know," Clark countered.

"So maybe I might have convinced him to invite them at the last minute . . . and besides it's not like Chloe doesn't know them," Oliver admitted, unabashedly. "Just because you wiped all her memories of the real you from her brain doesn't mean her memories of them aren't still intact, and last I checked, she's still Watchtower."

"What's the real reason they're here, Oliver?" Clark fixed his friend with a dark gaze, the one he used when he was trying to get the truth out of someone.

"Look," Oliver declared, without an ounce of regret, "You convinced me not to go after Lex without you, but you forget all too easily that he knows your secret Clark, which means he may know how to kill you. I just brought in some added protection in case he really is alive and thinks it's a good idea to attack you when you're so busy with the wedding. Besides, Chloe isn't exactly on his list of favorite people either, so really, we're protecting both of you."

Clark took in the information, and eventually nodded his approval, "Fine. I understand why you think they should all be here. Besides, everyone deserves to have a little fun anyway."

"I'm glad you think so," Oliver settled, grinning.

~*~

Chloe's P.O.V.

After several minutes of catching up with her mother, Lois, and Lucy, Chloe decided it was time for her mother to meet the other important people in her life, so she grabbed her hand and pulled her after her just as she had done with Jimmy.

"Come on, Mom," Chloe chattered, eagerly, "I want you to meet all the important people in my life."

Moira Sullivan was only too happy to oblige her daughter's wishes. She wanted to know the people who had helped shape her daughter into the young woman she was today.

Chloe stopped first at the side of a medium height, young black man, "Mom, meet Pete Ross. He was one of my very best friends in high school. We got back in touch recently and have become best friends again."

Pete smiled adoringly at Chloe, clearly still smitten, and took Moira's hand and kissed it, "It's nice to meet you Mrs. Sullivan. It's really great that you're here. Chloe was always too stubborn to admit it, but I know how much she missed you."

"You're very kind, Pete," Moira blushed a little at his kiss to her hand, "But please call me Moira. If you're one of Chloe's closest friends, then you're family to me. Thank you for being there for my daughter when I couldn't be."

"The pleasure has been all mine. Your daughter is one of a kind, and I'm really happy for her but I seem to have lost my date," Pete realized, flummoxed a bit.

"Pete Ross," Chloe accused, "_You_ brought a plus one? I _have_ to meet her! It'll have to be later though . . . I'm still introducing my mom to all the important people she never got to know."

Pete blushed at Chloe's words and turned on his heel, in search of his date.

"Isn't he charming?" Moira said to herself. "Did you ever date?"

"No," Chloe informed her, "I had this _colossal_ crush on Clark all through high school. I never realized Pete had feelings for me until it was too late . . . Now come on! There are more people to meet!"

They approached a young woman with curly blonde hair wearing a simple blood red strapless wrap dress with a slit that went dangerously high up on her long, lean thigh. Chloe tapped her on the shoulder and she spun around in surprise. She was devastatingly beautiful and had gorgeous blue eyes.

"Mom, this is Kara Kent, Clark's younger cousin from Minnesota," Chloe introduced, brightly. "Kara meet my mom!"

"Hello," Kara said, sticking out her hand politely. Moira took Kara's hand with both of hers and shook gently. "Chloe never mentioned anything about a mother."

Chloe looked embarrassed, but Moira wasn't phased, "I'm not surprised. It hasn't really been until today that I can really be with her, and missing mothers are a touchy subject at best."

Kara smiled, "That's true. When I first came here from Minnesota after my mother and father died, Chloe and Clark went out of their way to be kind and comforting to me. They were excellent role models. Your daughter helped me deal with my loss, and I'm forever grateful to her for that. I eventually went back to Minnesota but when Clark told me about the wedding, I just _had_ to be here for it. Congratulations Chloe," Kara reached out and gave the other blonde a hug, which stunned Chloe at first but she returned the hug when she got over it.

Moira beamed at Chloe, pride seeping from her pores at her daughter's actions toward the younger girl. She squeezed Chloe's hand.

"Have fun, Kara," Chloe ordered as she led her mother away to the next important person.

"Mom, aside from Clark, the woman you're about to meet is probably the most important person you're going to meet tonight," Chloe informed her mother as they came upon a woman with gorgeous long red hair, wearing a wine colored, floor length, cap-sleeved, scoop-necked, empire-wasted gown. Chloe touched the woman on the shoulder the same way she had just done with Kara.

The woman turned around and her eyes sparkled with delight as she hugged the bride for a good long while. Moira noticed that this was the woman she'd sat next to during the wedding.

"Mom, I'd like you to meet United States Senator Martha Kent," Chloe beamed, at Mrs. Kent. "She was my mother while you were away. She practically adopted me as her own the minute Clark and I became friends," Chloe announced. "Mrs. Kent, this is my mother, Moira Sullivan."

Both women took one brief look at each other and simultaneously dived at the other, coming together in a monster of a hug. They started crying as they clutched one another, Moira sobbing into Martha Kent's lovely hair. After a minute or so they pulled apart, but kept their forearms linked.

"Thank you!" Moira sobbed, instantly loving Martha Kent. "Thank you so much for taking care of my daughter when I couldn't! I always hoped she'd find someone like you to love her as she deserved to be loved, like she was their very own. I'm forever in your debt."

Martha was sobbing too, "Chloe has always held a special place in my heart. I always wanted a big family and I lost hope of ever having one when the doctors told me I couldn't have children, but then Clark came into our lives and brought Chloe. She and Lois are the daughters I've always wanted! You owe me nothing."

The two women hugged again, still crying.

"Chloe, go greet more of your guests while I get to know Senator Kent," Moira shooed her daughter away, linking arms with Martha and grabbing a glass of red wine from one of the silver platters circulating around the room.

"Oh please do call me Martha," Mrs. Kent insisted, becoming fast friends with Mrs. Sullivan.

"Only if you agree to call me Moira," Moira resolved, adamantly, handing the first glass of wine she'd grabbed to Martha, and snagging another one for herself before the server got out of arms length.

"Okay, Mom," Chloe obeyed, sashaying off to join her husband. "I'm introducing you to some more people later though okay?"

~*~

Classical music could be heard from outside the Kent barn, a place she'd stood so many times before she had it memorized. She had stood outside during the wedding, listening to the beautiful ceremony, wishing her own wedding had been so romantic and, well, free. She hadn't been able to bring herself to step across the threshold, so she leaned against the wooden wall of the barn and breathed deeply, trying to collect herself and scrounge up enough courage to join the party. She looked down at her rose colored evening gown and sighed, looking down at her invitation again. Even though she skipped around the world from place to place now, she always managed to receive her mail. She'd also received a phone call from Oliver Queen, requesting that she put her feelings for Clark aside and come be Chloe's best friend on her wedding day. She wasn't quite sure how Oliver had managed to track her cell phone, but, in a way, she was glad he did. Chloe was her best friend, after all, and she did want to be there for her, so she took one last deep breath, pushed herself off the wooden wall of the barn and finally set foot inside. Nervously, she crushed up her black curls to make sure they were still holding their shape, and walked as steadily as she could manage into crowd.

~*~

Chloe's P.O.V.

Chloe and Jimmy had talked to several people from The Daily Planet that Jimmy had wanted to invite, and introduced him to Bart, Victor, A.C., and re-introduced Dinah. It wasn't long after that that she recognized a face in the crowd who couldn't possibly be who she thought it was. She blinked several times, trying to clear her vision so that her hallucination would disappear, but it wouldn't. In fact, her hallucination seemed to be gliding toward her with a nervous smile on her face.

"Oh my God, Lana!" Chloe shrieked for the billionth time that night, and took off at a run to envelope her long lost best friend in a unyielding hug. "I can't believe you're here!"

"Neither can I," Lana admitted, a bit shyly. She had been hoping for a quiet entrance without much notice from the crowd, but Chloe had just ruined that scenario. Now she was in the spotlight, and she felt a very familiar pair of eyes boring holes into her back, "Congratulations, Chloe!"


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I own neither Smallville nor Superman. They belong to people and companies far greater than I. The characters are just really fun to play with when borrowed. I do not own the song "Lucky," I presume it belongs to Bif Naked. I do not own the song "Where I Stood," I presume it belongs to Missy Higgins. Also, I stole the character Vanessa Abrams from Gossip Girl who belongs to The CW, but she is a couple years older in this fic so it doesn't look like Pete is robbing the cradle.

SPOILER ALERT: This story is loosely based on "Bride." If you haven't seen this episode yet, I wouldn't read this until you have, unless you don't care.

Rating: This chapter is rated T, though, as promised, eventually it will become M

**Author's Note: Thanks for all the wonderful feedback and encouragement! Especially to Superlc529 – you ROCK!!! Thanks to smartlyrics . com for providing me with the song lyrics and to crystal-cure . com for helping me with the color meanings.

The Moment He Knew

Chapter 9 – Touch Me or I'm Going to Scream!

Lois' P.O.V.

Lois couldn't believe her ears when she'd heard Chloe shout out Lana's name, but there she was, dressed in a simple rose colored evening gown, giving her cousin a hug and saying congratulations. Lois felt so many emotions at once from Lana's appearance; she didn't know exactly _what_ to do with herself. Part of her was hopping mad at the raven-haired beauty for abandoning Clark when he'd needed her most, or for just leaving him at all and hurting him. Another part of her was hopping mad at "Miss Perfect" for having the _gall_ to show her _face_ in the Kent barn ever again after the way she'd broken things off with Clark via DVD in the first place. Yet another part of her was hopping mad at the fact that Lana was still breath-takingly, annoyingly gorgeous and poised without seeming to put any effort into it _at_ _all_ and the idea of wrapping her hands around the other young woman's slender throat seemed _very_ appealing at the moment.

Another part of her was devastated at Lana's return because, though her premise for returning to Smallville was Chloe's wedding, Lana's _real_ motive was most certainly to win Clark back and Lana Lang was Clark Kent's only true weakness. She knew because _she_ was the one that had been there _every day_ since Lana left, helping him to pick up the pieces. Lois wanted him so badly and loved him so much it made her heart hurt, and with Lana back in town, she was _certain_ she was destined for heartbreak. The last part of her was worried for Clark. Lana had _left_ him, in a very impersonal way, and their relationship had been rocky at best before the raven-haired beauty's coma. She was afraid that getting involved with Lana again would make Clark unhappy, but she _knew_ he would stay with her and put Lana's feelings above his own because he _always_ found a way to blame himself for whatever happened to her. _All_ Lois wanted for Clark was for him to be happy, and she just wasn't sure that Lana was the one who could give him what he needed.

Lois checked her bracelet watch. In twenty minutes, dinner was going to be served so she had plenty of time to get from the Kent barn to the Kent house and back without being late to announce that the food was to be served.

She left the barn in a brisk walk, but once she was out of the sight of the crowd, she _ran_ – as well as she could in her tangerine-colored heels.She ran toward the only house that had ever really felt like home. Lois flung the front door open, dashed up the stairs and locked herself in the master bathroom. She gripped the sink until she was white knuckled and began to sob – sad, horrible, heart-wrenching sobs that shook her entire body as hot tears ran down her cheeks.

Lois backed up against the wall and slowly, bumpily, slid down into a sitting position with her knees nearly tucked under her chin, sobs still wracking her suddenly exhausted body. _How did I get myself into this mess?_ She wondered bitterly, crying over Clark Kent like she'd never cried over any other man before. Her gut twisted at her intuition that they were _meant_ to be, unable to reconcile the idea with her head, which saw him living happily ever after with Lana. She checked her bracelet watch again, commanding herself to stop sobbing and get a grip. Lanes didn't _hide_ in bathrooms and cry over unrequited love, they _persevered_, they _thrived_, they kicked life's ass, and right now that's _exactly_ what Lois had to do.

After a few deep breaths and after channeling her inner-General, she'd gotten up off the floor and cleaned up the mess her tears had made of her face. Mascara smudges gone, check; reapplication of powder foundation, check; subtle reapplication of bronzer, check; eye make-up touch-up, check; reapplication of mascara, check; another coat of lip gloss, check. Her face looked exactly as it had before her breakdown except her eyes were puffy from crying.

Lois looked at her bracelet watch again, breathing deeply for a little while longer before she headed back to the Kent barn. She walked slowly toward the reception, her expression downtrodden as she trudged through the grass. She reached the entrance to the barn and plastered a smile on her face before crossing the threshold, and heading to the D.J. to borrow the microphone.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, now that we've all mingled, gotten to know each other and shared funny little stories about the bride and groom, it's time to eat!" Lois exclaimed with enthusiasm. "There's a name card placed at every seat at every table, so all you have to do is find yours. Once you have, the servers will know what to bring you."

She turned toward the bridal table and was surprised to see only a two-seater table when it should have been a table for four. Lois was about to start berating the set-up staff when Jimmy appeared before her.

"Okay, Lois don't be mad," Jimmy pleaded; making her feel slightly better that she still scared her cousin-in-law a little.

"Mad about what? Why is the bridal party table only set for two?" She demanded, dangerously close to having another breakdown.

"I changed things around a bit," Jimmy explained. "I kind of wanted me and Chloe to share our first meal as man and wife alone, but there's another two seat table set up almost right next to ours so people will still know you're in the wedding party."

"That's sweet, Jimmy," Lois complimented, before she realized that she would be sitting with Clark alone.

_Deep breaths Lois! Deep breaths!_

"You're _not_ mad?" Jimmy asked, pleasantly surprised. He looked like he couldn't quite believe that Lois didn't look like she was going to kill him.

"No," Lois said, "I think it fits into the whole theme of the wedding very nicely."

"Really? I'm _so_ glad you think so! Take a seat," Jimmy commanded, eyeing his cousin-in-law with concern, noting her puffy eyes, "You look exhausted."

"You have _no_ idea," Lois muttered under her breath, noticing that Clark was already sitting at their table. She shook her head as though her hair was down and she needed to get it out of her face, held her chin up a little higher, braced herself, and sat down next to Clark.

~*~

Clark's P.O.V.

Lois hadn't been the only one who'd been surprised by Lana's sudden appearance. Clark had been certain he'd never see her again since she'd asked him specifically not to come after her in her "Dear John" DVD; and, as Lois would say, in a Clark-like move, he'd abided her wishes. It was odd having her in the barn again after her long absence, but it didn't feel uncomfortable. In fact, it didn't _feel_ like anything. Lana had come back for Chloe's wedding, not for him, so why should _he_ care if she was there to support her best friend? It was brave and honorable when he really thought about it, two qualities she'd had in her that had disappeared during her relationship with Lex, which she'd apparently regained. It made him proud of her and he wondered what else she had up her sleeve. Before he could mull over anything else Lana-related, he heard Lois' voice and smiled widely.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, now that we've all mingled, gotten to know each other and shared funny little stories about the bride and groom, it's time to eat!" Lois exclaimed with enthusiasm. "There's a name card placed at every seat at every table so all you have to do is find yours. Once you have, the servers will know what to bring you."

Clark didn't have to look for his name card because Jimmy came up to him and explained that he and Chloe wanted to share their first meal as husband and wife alone, and that a small table had been set up for him and Lois to sit at near enough to his and Chloe's table that it would be clear they were in the bridal party. Clark nodded, noticing the intimate table setting that he was to share with Lois and took a nervous seat. Their table was facing everybody else's and he spotted Lana sitting next to Pete and the dark-haired, dark-skinned woman he'd noticed Victor talking to earlier. Lana was picture perfect as always, right down to her perfectly coifed curls, a look he'd never have been able to imagine on her if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes. It was a nice change from the monotony of her perpetually long hair.

Lois took her seat next to Clark and the air vibrated with the electricity their chemistry invoked. Still not knowing how to act around her after the ceremony and feeling even more awkward with Lana there, he just sat there sort of dumbly.

"So Lana's back?" Lois said it as a statement, even though it had been posed as a question, a touch of awkwardness in her voice, which was weird because he and Lois were never awkward around each other anymore . . . that is until _now_, when he'd discovered he had feelings for her.

"Lana's back," Clark repeated, his voice lacking its usual emotion.

"Did you know?" Lois asked, carefully, not really wanting to hear the answer but asking it anyway in an effort to be a good friend, despite the hurt his answer might cause her.

"No," Clark responded, sounding as though he was only half in this world and half in his own created one.

"Oh," Lois said, not sure how to proceed, but coming up with a topic as their food was delivered. Lois and Clark both received a filet mignon with rice pilaf and seasoned vegetables. The other option was lemon pepper chicken with garlic mashed potatoes and asparagus. "My Aunt Moira told me what you did."

Clark looked at her then and smiled shyly, "So I guess the cat's out of the bag, huh?"

"How on _Earth_ did you manage to find the last remaining batch of that stuff anyway?"

"Oliver helped a lot," Clark answered, humbly.

"It was really sweet of you to do that, Smallville," Lois complimented, shyly as well. "I noticed you managed to find Kara and get her to come."

"It wasn't hard to convince her," Clark admitted, just as shyly as before. "I wanted Chloe's wedding day to be perfect, so I did what had to be done. Surrounding her with her best friends and family seemed like the best way to go."

"I never knew you were so full of surprises, Smallville," Lois confessed, smiling slightly. "I like it."

Clark blushed deeply, a perfect scarlet, and tried to smile back without looking like a nervous idiot.

"Thanks," he managed to choke out, his voice still sounding normal and shy.

"Did you track down Lucy too?" Lois asked, curious.

"I'm _good_," Clark answered without a hint of cockiness in his tone, "But I'm not _that_ good. I'm pretty sure she showed up all on her own."

"That's _definitely_ Lucy," Lois agreed, knowing her sister well enough that it wasn't hard to imagine her hopping on a plane on a whim to attend her cousin's wedding without giving notice to anyone.

Someone had removed one of the glasses of champagne set there for Lois and Clark, the only ones besides the bride and groom who were allowed to drink champagne until it came time for the toasts. Neither one noticed this as the remaining glass was set between their plates, making it seem as if it belonged to both of them. Lois and Clark reached for the glass at the same time, hoping a drink would relax the atmosphere between them a bit, and their hands touched, sending a zing of electricity coursing through their bodies. They pulled their hands away as if they'd been burned and couldn't look at each other. Clark was staring somewhere above his head and Lois looked down at her hand, which was now in her lap, in wonder.

They ate in silence, sexual tension thick as molasses. Clark's stomach was fluttery throughout the whole meal and every time he looked up he saw Lana, which didn't help his sense of unease. The time for his and Lois' toasts to the bride and groom was quickly approaching.

"Did you have trouble writing your toast?" He asked, trying to break the electric silence.

"Yeah, actually," Lois admitted, something she never would have done if she weren't sitting only a foot away from the man she loved and was never going to have a chance with. "And after hearing Jimmy and Chloe's vows, my toast just seems sort of . . . _inadequate_."

"I'm sure it's _more_ than adequate," Clark reassured her, his tone soothing. "You _are_ Lois Lane after all."

"I appreciate your faith in me, Smallville," Lois smiled, still infinitely shy. "What about you? Did you have any trouble with yours?"

"I didn't actually write one," Clark confessed, blushing again. "I just figured that as long as I spoke from the heart whatever was meant to come out just would."

"Do you ever _not_ speak from the heart, Smallville?" Lois inquired, arching an eyebrow. "Because the Clark Kent I know _always_ has something wise to say whenever it's needed."

Clark's blush deepened, "I didn't know you thought I was wise."

"I think anyone that knows you thinks that, Clark," Lois told him, certain in her assumption.

Clark picked up the single glass of champagne and tilted it toward Lois before taking a sip, "Here's hoping some of those nuggets of wisdom will make their way into my toast."

He set the glass down, his cheeks still pink. Lois picked the glass up then and tilted it toward Clark, taking a sip, "Here's hoping your speech won't outshine mine since I'm a blood relation and will never live it down if _my_ toast _sucks_!"

Clark laughed. The sound escaped him loudly and boisterously, causing a certain raven-haired guest to stare jealously at his female dinner companion. Lois couldn't contain herself when Clark laughed, it was infectious, so she let out her own loud, boisterous giggle and they smiled at each other, genuinely this time, no trace of shyness in sight.

They recovered quickly and turned their heads away fast, embarrassed. Lois looked at her bracelet watch again, "It's time. Do you want to go first or should I?"

Clark shrugged, "Rock, paper, scissors? Loser goes first?"

Under the table, as not to be seen by the guests, they each laid a palm out flat and curled their other hand into a fist, striking their palms three times as was par for the game. Clark ended up going with rock while Lois decided to go with paper, covering Clark's 'rock' fist briefly with her 'paper' hand and feeling the same zing of electricity they'd felt when they'd touched before, only this time the electricity stole their breath away, leaving them both flustered and confused. It didn't, however, prevent Lois from smiling brightly in victory. It was in her nature to be competitive and she loved to win, so even though a cloud of sexual tension buzzed between them, it didn't stop her from silently gloating. Clark smirked, narrowing his blue eyes at her. She shrugged at him and cocked her head to one side, still smiling as if it were her destiny to win the game.

Clark watched as Lois motioned for the servers to start passing everyone a glass of champagne. The servers were nothing if not efficient and soon every guest had a glass of bubbly in their hand. Clark stood up and went to stand by Chloe and Jimmy's table, on Jimmy's side since he was the best man. He picked up one of Jimmy's unnecessary, unneeded forks and clanged it against his glass to get everybody's attention. Soon all eyes were fixed on him and he swore he felt Lana's gaze as if _she_ was the one with heat vision and was trying to set his tuxedo on fire. He smiled down at Chloe and Jimmy, choosing to look anywhere that Lana wasn't.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Clark began, "Welcome_._ Today is a celebration that I won't _ever_ forget. Chloe and I have been friends since junior high and we've shared a _lot_ of _great_ memories. She was my first kiss, in fact," Clark smiled as Chloe took her turn to blush. "I was there for every date she ever went on and let me tell you, she did _not_ have a knack for choosing the greatest guys . . . that is, _until_ she met _Jimmy_. I agree with Jimmy when he says that he knew from the moment they met that he and Chloe were meant to spend the rest of their lives together . . . Chloe has always had a sparkle in her eyes, proof that she's full of life . . . but when I first saw her with Jimmy . . . I noticed something extra in those baby blues of hers . . . I realize now, in hindsight, that it was _love_ I was seeing . . . Being the overprotective best friend, I watched as Jimmy and Chloe's romance blossomed . . . I watched how Jimmy took _care _of her . . . how he treated her like a precious jewel that was meant to be admired and loved for its natural beauty . . . and how he wasn't afraid to take terrifying leaps and risk the demolition of his _own_ heart to make sure that _hers_ remained safe and unharmed . . . I grew to respect and befriend Jimmy and his friendship has only made me more certain that Chloe has _finally_ gotten it right . . . all she had to do was wait for the right one to come along and teach herself to recognize that person when they entered her life . . . being a part of this ceremony and listening to the vows they wrote for each other, it's _obvious_ she taught herself well . . . I wish the two of you _all_ the happiness in the world! To Chloe and Jimmy!"

"To Chloe and Jimmy!" Everyone repeated as Clark took a sip of his champagne. He noticed that Lana gulped hers down until her glass was empty, and motioned to a server to bring her a fresh glass before Lois took her turn.

~*~

Lois' P.O.V.

"To Chloe and Jimmy!" Lois raised her voice with everyone else.

Lana wasn't the only one who drained her champagne glass . . . she had company in Lois, whose nerves were getting the best of her and who didn't have to motion for a server to bring her a fresh glass – one was just deposited in her hand. She smiled and took her place beside Chloe at her and Jimmy's table, Clark remaining on the opposite side next to Jimmy. Since Clark had already gotten everyone's attention with his beautiful improv speech, she didn't have to bother banging cutlery against her fresh glass of champagne.

"Wow!" She began, "It's a little hard to one up that one, Smallville," she said, glancing at Clark ". . . I asked Chloe how she knew that Jimmy was the one earlier today . . . and with a bright, confident smile she told me that I'd just _know_ when I met the right man," she quickly stole a glance at Clark, "The same way _she_ did when she met Jimmy . . . I asked her if, throughout their entire engagement and wedding planning if she'd _ever_ had any doubts . . . and her answer was this, "All I want is to walk down that aisle and marry the man that I love" . . . All I can say is that I _love_ Chloe with _all_ my heart . . . she's my cousin, my sister, my blood and we've _always_ been close . . . I _admit_ that I share Chloe's awful knack for choosing the wrong men, Jimmy excluded _of course_ . . . Maybe it's a Lane thing . . . I don't know . . . What I _do_ know is that the kind of love Chloe and Jimmy share is _rare_ . . . It's that pure, sweet, soul mate kind of love that everybody talks about but _almost_ _never_ finds . . . and I thank my lucky stars _every day_ with the knowledge that that kind of love _really_ does _exist_ . . . Since coming to Smallville I've _seen_ it on more than one occasion . . . Jonathan and Martha Kent had that kind of love . . . and _now_ my baby cousin has found it in Jimmy Olsen . . . and looking at the two of you . . . it gives me _hope_ that somewhere out there there's a man that is _my_ Jonathan, _my_ Jimmy . . . and that someday I'll have taught myself to recognize that man when it's _my_ turn . . . I _don't_ have to wish you all the happiness in the world because I already _know_ you have it . . . and this day . . . this moment . . . is proof of that. To Chloe and Jimmy!"

"To Chloe and Jimmy!" Everyone repeated again as Lois downed her glass of champagne once more, still nervous. Another glass was put in her hand, again, without her asking.

Lois noticed that Lana had drained her glass of champagne as well and had already taken another one from a passing server, sipping at the fresh glass more daintily. She wondered if Lana had finished off the carbonated alcohol for the same reason she had: Clark Kent. Lois' heart softened a bit toward the other young woman, and even though she was still hopping mad at her and was certain she'd be the cause of her soon to be broken heart, she decided to bite the bullet. Taking a large gulp of her drink, she made a beeline for Lana. They had been friendly before she left, but Lois hadn't realized she was in love with Clark at the time, so there had been nothing to stop them from being friends.

"Hey Lana," Lois greeted, faking a smile and trying to pretend that she was thrilled Lana had made it.

"Lois, hi!" Lana returned the greeting exuberantly, and gave Lois a quick hug, hoping she wouldn't see how jealous she was at how close Lois and Clark had grown in her absence.

"I'm glad you made it," Lois told her, her voice chipper. Lois normally didn't do chipper. She did contented, she did pleased, she did joyful, she did blissful, she did cheerful, she did ecstatic, delighted, and cheery, and once in a blue moon she _even_ did jovial, but she _did not do_ chipper. "Chloe's really missed you. I know it means a lot to her that you came."

"I'm glad I decided to come," Lana responded, smiling a deceptively warm smile. "I've missed her too, and I just couldn't bring myself to miss my best friend's wedding."

"Funny," Lois commented, "I don't remember seeing you _at_ the actual wedding."

"I was here," Lana admitted candidly, dropping the fake happy attitude for just a moment. "I just wasn't _in_ here."

Lois cocked her head to the side, studying Lana for a moment, and decided that if Lana was going to be honest then she could drop the act for a moment too, "Why didn't you come in?"

"I was scared," Lana confessed, truthfully. "I wasn't sure if anyone really _wanted_ me here . . . so I stayed outside and listened. The ceremony was beautiful and the reception is just as lovely," Lana admired, taking everything in. "I understand you were the one in charge of it all . . . You did a fantastic job."

"Thank you," Lois said genuinely, licking her lips at what her next statement would be. "It's good to know you're okay."

"I never wanted to leave," Lana continued truthfully, asking herself why she was revealing her secret to Lois and not coming up with an answer, "Lex didn't really give me a choice."

"Lex? What does _he_ have to do with you leaving?" Lois asked, intrigued, her reporter's instinct to find out the truth overtaking her.

"His men were there when I came out of my coma along with a woman named Tess Mercer," Lana explained. "They told me they would _kill_ Clark if I didn't make that DVD, and then they took me . . . _Unfortunately_, that doesn't make anything I said on it any less true."

Lois was shocked at Lana's confession, but still took gruff notice that she happened to be Lex and goon-free, "You must have escaped . . . I mean, you wouldn't be _here_ if you hadn't."

"I did," Lana shared, "Not long after they took me."

"Why didn't you come back?" Lois asked, wondering why Lana hadn't come running back into Clark's arms once she was free.

"I thought about it," Lana told her, "But I couldn't. There were things I needed to discover about myself before I could face Clark again."

"I take it you've discovered those things since you're here," Lois observed, her heart breaking.

"I have," Lana revealed, "I'm just not sure if_ I'm_ ready to face him . . . He's different now . . . he seems . . . _happier_. I didn't expect that."

"It took awhile to get him that way, Lana," Lois shared. "He grieved over you for a really long time."

"I'm glad he had people to help him through it," Lana expressed, sorrowfully.

Lois nodded and confessed, "I was there the first time he watched your DVD . . . He helped me through my break up with Ollie . . . I wouldn't have been a very good friend if I wasn't there for him when he lost you."

Lana bit her perfectly glossed lip, "I'm glad he has friends like you, Lois."

Lois gave her a half smile, "We _all_ encouraged him . . . me, Chloe, Jimmy, Ollie . . . It's not like I did it single-handedly."

"Still," Lana pointed out, "I see the way you are together . . . you've gotten to be pretty close _friends_, right?"

"Friends," Lois repeated, trying not to say the word as though it were the foulest one in every language known to man, "_Right_."

"What do you think I should do?" Lana asked. "You seem to know him best . . . what would _you_ do if you were me?"

Tears formed in Lois' eyes and she fought desperately to keep them at bay, when she found her voice, it was thick with pain, "I would wrap my arms around him and _never_ let him go . . . Make him happy."

"Thanks for the advice, Lois," Lana smiled gratefully, her doe eyes wide.

"Just being a good friend," Lois said, humbly, trying not feel herself shattering into a million pieces. She couldn't fall to pieces yet, they still had half the reception to get through. Then she'd curl up with a bottle of champagne and cry herself to sleep back at her apartment in Metropolis. _Hell, why not start early?_ She thought, taking an enormous gulp of champagne.

It was then that Chloe brought up her Aunt Moira to introduce her to Lana, one of the most important people in Chloe's life. Lois ducked her head and made her way around the room, accidentally bumping into someone in her haste to get away from Lana, but not spilling her champagne in the process.

"Lois Lane," a familiar voice sounded, "I thought you'd _aced_ walking in heels by now. Still in the basement bullpen at _The Planet_?"

Lois looked up, finding herself face to face with Dinah Lance and her barely there dress, "Dinah! I don't remember _you_ being on the guest list."

"Jimmy invited me at the last minute since some people couldn't make it," Dinah explained, her expression smug. "I see your knack for tact is the same as your knack for picking men, _excluding_ Ollie of course. You really _blew_ that one."

Lois smiled brilliantly at her, "I would _love_ to stay here and continue this verbal sparring match with you but I have a schedule to keep," Lois started to walk away, but turned before she was out of Dinah's sight and earshot, "Besides, we _both_ know if I stayed I would totally kick your ass verbally and physically. I wouldn't want to ruin your pretty dress, though I'm certain that most of the men here wouldn't mind an encore to your barely there show . . . Tell me, how _does_ one manage to fight injustice, when one could _very easily_ be arrested for indecent exposure?"

She turned on her heel and stomped up to the D.J., taking the microphone in her hand again, "And now I'd like to ask the bride and groom to make their way to the dance floor for their first dance as husband and wife!"

~*~

Oliver's P.O.V.

"Congratulations, Olsen," Oliver grinned, shaking Jimmy's hand firmly as he watched Lois approach the D.J. "As of now, Project Clois is officially a go."

Jimmy grinned and nodded at his partner in crime before heading to the dance floor as requested.

~*~

Chloe & Jimmy's P.O.V.

They had chosen the song "Lucky" by Bif Naked to be 'their' song. As it started to play, Jimmy took Chloe in his arms and held her exactly the way Clark described in his toast, like a precious jewel to be loved for its natural beauty.

_It was a Monday, when my lover told me,  
never pay the reaper with love only.  
What could I say to you, except, I love you.  
And I'd give my life for yours.  
_

They whirled effortlessly around the dance floor, eyes locked.

_I know we are, we are the lucky ones.  
I know we are, we are the lucky ones.  
I know we are, we are the lucky ones, dear._

The whole world had disappeared and it was just the two of them, radiantly happy and in love._  
_

_The first time we made love, I, I wasn't sober.  
(And you told me you loved me over and over!)_  
_How could I ever love another, when I miss you every day_

_I know we are, we are the lucky ones.  
I know we are, we are the lucky ones.  
I know we are, we are the lucky ones, dear._

_  
Remember the time we made love in the roses?  
(And you took my picture in all sorts of poses!)  
How could I ever get over you, when I'd give my life for yours._

They smiled even wider as they listened to the music, indeed remembering the romantic time Jimmy had covered Chloe's bed in red rose petals. He had indeed taken her picture in all sorts of poses.

_I know we are... we are the lucky ones.  
I know we are... we are the lucky ones.  
I know we are... we are the lucky ones.  
I know we are: we are the lucky ones, dear.  
_  
_My dear, It's time to say I thank god for you.  
I thank god for you in each and every single way.  
And, I know... I know.. I know.. I know... _

Jimmy dipped his head slightly and gave Chloe a passionate kiss that lasted through the end of the song.

_It's time to let you know; time to let you know.  
Time to let you know; time to sit here and say:_

I know we are... we are the lucky ones.  
I know we are... we are the lucky ones.  
I know we are... we are the lucky ones.  
I know we are: we are the lucky ones, dear.

_We are the lucky ones, dear..._

~*~

Clark's P.O.V.

"Now we'd like to ask Chloe's escort to join her on the dance floor," the D.J. announced.

"Hey Clark," Chloe called to him, beckoning him with a come-hither motion with her index finger and a cheesy smile, "It's time to boogie."

Lois, Chloe, and Jimmy had decided that the only songs to be played at the wedding with lyrics were to be the one for the Rose Ceremony, and for Chloe and Jimmy's first dance; the rest would be elegant but peppy, classical music.

Clark smiled at the new bride and descended the loft stairs, taking Chloe comfortably in his arms and dancing with ease.

She smiled up at him, "I know it's weird, isn't it?"

"A little," he admitted, as she giggled happily.

"Thank you for letting us have our wedding here," Chloe grinned gratefully.

"It's the least I could do . . . You're always the best friend I ever could have had," he said, trying to hide his sadness that he could no longer share his secret with her.

Chloe gave him a confused look, a shadow of a smile still on her lips, "You say that like something's changed . . . Clark, _trust_ me we've been through too much together . . . _nothing_ is going to make me forget _that_."

"You're right," he conceded, knowing the truth. "The important thing is your life is everything you want it to be."

Chloe nodded, as though she could hardly believe it, before admitting, "It is," and smiling her best sparkling Chloe Sullivan-Olsen smile. "It's like I've been carrying around this weight . . . and I don't know why . . . but a few days ago I finally let go . . . like I can move on."

Clark smiled at her, his sense of loss nearly overpowering him, but he was saved by Jimmy.

"Okay CK, it's my turn to dance with my wife," Jimmy said, stealing Chloe away.

"Hey handsome, want to dance?" Martha Kent approached her son. Clark smiled again this time taking his mother comfortably in his arms and dancing with ease.

"I love you, Mom," Clark told her. "I've missed having you around."

"I've missed you and this place too," Martha admitted, her voice nostalgic and sad.

"I have some wonderful news that I've been dying to tell you all day!" He exclaimed, excitedly, his smile truly bright now that he was talking to the woman that who had raised him, and knew the truth about him; the only one in the room he cared to discuss it with. "I flew this afternoon!"

"You flew!" Martha cried, elated and proud. "Oh my God, honey, that's incredible!"

"Well, I really only just floated off the ground a few inches but I did it on _purpose_ and I _know_ that when the barn clears out after all this wedding stuff that I'll be able to fly for _real_! I can _feel_ it," Clark gushed, twirling his mother and pulling her back to him.

"Did I hear right?" Kara queried, coming up to Clark and Martha. "You can _fly_ now?"

Clark and Martha stopped dancing, "Mom meet Kara, my cousin. Kara, this is my adoptive mother Martha Kent."

Kara smiled at Martha but got right back to her original question, "Can you fly or _not_?"

"Yes," Clark answered, giving his mother an apologetic look. "You'll have to forgive Kara, Mom_. _She's still not quite used to the Earthly custom of being _polite_."

"Sorry," Kara apologized to Martha, "Sometimes I forget common courtesy. I guess that's what happens when you're stuck in a space ship for sixteen years."

"That's quite alright dear," Martha sympathized, giving the blonde beauty a warm smile. "It's _so_ nice to finally meet you."

"And you as well," Kara smiled back. Martha Kent reminded her of Clark's real mother, Lara. They began talking and Clark was left by himself.

He looked around for Lois, spotting her talking to some guy he was sure he'd seen at work at some point. He found a spot out of the way and watched her as guy after guy approached her, sometimes just talking or flirting with her, others actually asking her to dance. Clark couldn't help the fact that he was burning with jealousy. All those men were doing exactly what he wanted to only he didn't know how.

~*~

Oliver's P.O.V.

"You're Pete, right?" Oliver approached the medium-height young black man.

"You're Oliver Queen, _right_?" Pete countered, not sure if he could ever trust a billionaire.

"Yes, but are you _Pete_?" Oliver asked again.

"Yeah, I'm Pete. What's it to_ you_?"

Oliver held his hands up in surrender, "I was just wondering if you might help me with a little project I've got going."

"Sorry," Pete apologized, smiling at the tall blond man who wasn't much older than he was. "After dealing with the Luthors, billionaires make me suspicious, it's nothing personal. What project?"

"Do you know Lois Lane?" Oliver inquired.

"How could I _not_, she makes her presence known pretty clearly, and I'm not talking about how super-smoking hot she is," Pete surmised.

Oliver chuckled, Pete had summed up Lois Lane in a sentence fragment, "You see, _Lois_ is secretly in love with _Clark_ and _Clark_ is secretly in love with _Lois_, he just doesn't _know _it yet, so Jimmy and I are playing Cupid tonight."

"What do you want me to do?" Pete asked, eager to help.

"Talk to her, flirt with her, dance with her," Oliver suggested, "And make _sure_ Clark sees."

"Done," Pete agreed, making his way toward Lois, after shaking Oliver's hand.

~*~

Pete's P.O.V.

"Hi!" Pete greeted when he reached Lois, who was just watching people dance after getting rid of Bob, a guy that worked at _The Planet_, who had been shamelessly flirting with her. He was, she thought, the last in a long stream of men she worked with who had come up to her, asking her to dance, flirting with her and talking with her until she had a headache. She hated it, but at least it kept her mind off of Clark and Lana's impending reunion. "You're Lois Lane, Clark's friend?"

The word friend stung like a bitch, but she nodded, "Yep, I'm Clark's _friend_."

"I'm Pete Ross," he introduced himself.

"I remember you," Lois said, taking a closer look at him. "You're the meteor infected guy who was going to give Jimmy an interview last year."

Pete smiled again, aware that Clark was watching, and was surprised she remembered, "I'm not meteor infected anymore. I'm just regular old Pete now."

"Good for you," Lois encouraged, actually taking an interest in the conversation this time.

"I've read some of your articles," Pete admitted, attempting to flatter her. "They're pretty interesting. You've got real talent. It must be genetic."

Lois blushed at the comment on her articles, "Thank you . . . that's really sweet. Chloe used to talk about you way back when. You were one of her very best friends."

"Clark, Chloe and I were all pretty tight in high school," Pete explained. "I've really missed them both. I'm _glad_ Jimmy snapped that picture of me saving Clark's cousin last year. It's been nice being good friends with them again."

"You can never have too many good friends," Lois agreed.

Pete took her right hand in his and kissed it, "Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?"

Lois normally didn't succumb to such petty flirtation, but Pete was genuinely nice and he was nothing if not a gentleman.

"Okay," she let him lead her out onto the dance floor. He entwined their fingers and put his other hand delicately on her waist and seriously impressed her with all his dance moves. He was suave, smooth, and confident on the dance floor, and he had a great sense of humor that kept her laughing.

~*~

Oliver's P.O.V.

Oliver approached the infamous Lucy Lane from behind and tapped her on the shoulder. Unlike her sister, she did not spin around reflexively and punch him in the face. She simply turned her head to see who had touched her out of the corner of her eye, an incredibly sexy maneuver on her part. He could see the relation now. Upon discovering that the touch came from a tall, hot blond male, she turned around and flashed him a flirtatious smile.

Oliver returned her smile and pulled her hand up to kiss it, "The infamous Lucy Lane, it's a pleasure."

Raising her eyebrows briefly at his kiss and turning up the sexy, she purred, "The pleasure's all mine . . ."

"Oliver," he filled in the blank, "Oliver Queen."

Her eyes widened when she recognized the young billionaire and she smiled again, brashly, "Oliver Queen," she sighed, "It's a _pity_ . . . I _really_ wanted to dance with you but now that I know who you _are,_ I'm afraid I'm going to have kick your ass for breaking my big sister's heart."

"How about we make a deal," Oliver suggested. "We leave _out_ the ass kicking because your sister already did this," he pointed to his battered face, "to me earlier, and I _promise_ to save _you_ a dance if you _promise_ to go over and shamelessly throw yourself at Clark Kent, and dance really close to Lois and Pete so she _can't_ miss it."

Lucy pretended to ponder his deal, "So let me get this _straight_ . . . as long as I make _sure_ Lois sees me dancing with Clark I get a chance at _two_ hot guys?"

"Pretty much," Oliver laid it out for her.

"I'm _so_ in," Lucy purred, giving Oliver her sexiest little smile.

~*~

Clark's P.O.V.

Clark's stomach wrenched as he watched Pete talk to, then flirt with, and finally dance with Lois, who appeared to be having the time of her life as Pete expertly maneuvered her all over the dance floor. He didn't notice Lucy's approach.

"Hey Clark," Lucy purred, giving him a sexy smile and clearly violating his personal space. "Did you miss me?"

Lucy succeeded in tearing his attention away from a delighted Lois. He half-smiled back at her, uncomfortable at her closeness.

"Lucy! I can't say that I have considering the circumstances we met under," Clark said honestly, "But you look nice."

Lucy grabbed a hold of Clark's gray tie and turned her back to him, the tie over her bare shoulder as she dragged him out of his hiding place to a spot that Lois would clearly see.

"_Just_ _nice_?" She asked, turning back toward him but not releasing his tie, a wicked look in her eyes to match her smile.

Clark sucked in a breath and looked Lucy up and down, before he gulped and admitted, "I suppose _nice_ isn't exactly the precise word for it."

She licked her lips in a slow and sexy manner that would have had any man drooling at that point, "And what word would _you_ use if nice _isn't_ the _precise_ word for it?"

Her eyes dared him to answer, to say something naughty.

Clark gulped again, unused to being so shamelessly flirted with, "I guess _gorgeous_ might work."

Lucy smiled, "That's a _little_ better," she bit her lower lip, "But I bet if you think _really_ _hard_," she purred, running her free hand dangerously over Clark's crotch, "you could come up with an _even_ better one."

Clark didn't know what to do with himself, all he knew was that she wasn't getting a _rise_ out of him like she was obviously intending to.

"Sexy . . . irresistible . . . super-smoking hot," he decided to play her little game. He didn't want to talk to Lana and he had no idea what was going on between him and Lois, so he decided to have a little fun even though he wasn't interested in Lucy like that.

She smiled triumphantly and an upbeat song started to play, "_Perfect_ . . . dance with me."

Lucy didn't ask, she told, much like her sister, and she led him onto the dance floor the same way she'd dragged him out of his hiding place with her back turned and his gray tie over her bare shoulder. She turned around and pressed her body fully against his and started to writhe into him, making eye contact with Lois. Then she danced in a sexy little circle around him, making sure to cup his ass, which startled the hell out of him, as she made her way around him, before backing up against him, grinding _her_ ass into his crotch, winding a hand in his hair and caressing his face. When the song was over, she pulled away and let go of his tie.

"_Nice_ seeing you again, Clark," she purred, "Stay sexy," she commanded, deliberately shaking her ass as she walked away like a model on a runway.

~*~

Lois' P.O.V.

Lois had been having a great time dancing with Pete until she saw her little sister basically throwing herself at Clark, who seemed very uncomfortable at first but gradually seemed to not mind. She put extra effort into having fun with Pete, hoping that Clark would notice because _she_ couldn't tear her eyes away from him and Lucy. Eventually she dragged Clark onto the dance floor, and made eye contact with Lois, daring her with her eyes to do something about her dirty dancing. Pete noticed Clark and Lucy too and made sure to keep dancing with Lois in the same general area as the other couple. She glared at her little sister in disgust as she saw her grab Clark's ass, which _at least_ startled him. Clark wasn't really even dancing, he was just standing there as Lucy danced, eventually backing up against him and grinding her ass into his crotch, entwining her hand in his hair and caressing his face. For the second time that night Lois wanted to wrap her hands around another girl's throat, her sister's throat, for getting in the way of her and Clark.

Her blood boiled and it took all she had in her to politely excuse herself from Pete.

"Thank you so much for the dance, Pete," she said sincerely. "I really had a great time."

"All you have to do is ask if you want a replay," Pete said smoothly, kissing her hand again.

"I'll keep you to that," Lois mock-threatened, a smile on her face.

Once Pete disappeared into the crowd, Lois walked directly to the make-shift bar, "Vodka on the rocks, and make it snappy!"

~*~

Oliver's P.O.V.

Oliver was in a corner observing the whole time and laughing his ass off as he watched Lucy try to seduce Clark. The looks Clark got on his face were classic, and her dance moves were more than enough to make Clark blush and look like a deer caught in the headlights. Oliver laughed so hard his face hurt and tears welled in his eyes . . . he actually laughed so hard he giggled once, which sobered him, hoping nobody had heard it.

Lucy sauntered past him, giving him her signature sexy smile.

"Nice work," he complimented. "That was _perfect_!"

"I know," Lucy informed him, her eyes twinkling with naughty thoughts.

Oliver couldn't help it, he started cracking up again and he didn't know when he would be able to stop.

~*~

Chloe's P.O.V.

"Pete Ross," she called, "It's time you introduced me and my husband to your date."

Pete had rejoined his plus one after his dance with Lois, only to be summoned immediately by Chloe.

"Chloe, meet Vanessa Abrams, my very good friend," Pete introduced the two.

"Hi!" Vanessa greeted vibrantly, taking Chloe's hand and shaking it. She had long, black, curly hair, creamy café-au-lait skin, and was wearing a black halter dress that looked custom made.

"I love your dress!" Chloe squealed, truly admiring the design.

"I have a friend who has her own fashion line. She _insisted_ on making it for me when I told her I was going to a wedding. She wanted to make it dark blue but I requested black instead."

"That's so cool!" Chloe replied, impressed, then she pointed to Pete. "How did the two of you meet?"

"We met in New York at one of One Republic's concerts in Brooklyn," Pete told them.

"My sister Ruby's band SugarDaddy, for which she play bass, opened for them. I was home on break from NYU so I went to support her and met Pete. We're really good friends and when he asked me to come to your wedding, I was _psyched_ to see him in the place he grew up. I wanted to experience his Kansas roots for myself."

"Vanessa is a film major," Pete explained. "That kind of stuff _totally_ gets her off when it comes to her projects. She's really talented."

"But you guys are just friends," Chloe stated, noting that they weren't holding hands and that their body language was all wrong for a couple.

"Yeah, we're just friends," Vanessa confirmed. "What can you tell me about Victor?"

"Victor Stone?" Chloe asked, skeptically. She hadn't thought to invite any of The Justice League to the wedding except for Ollie, but as she looked around the room she noticed Dinah, Bart, A.C., and Victor. It had occurred to her that it might not be a good idea for all of them to be seen in a social setting so as not to give any of their enemies any clues to their real identities, but now that she knew they were there she was really happy they'd come.

"Yeah," Vanessa gushed, truly crushing on the young man otherwise known as Cyborg. "We bumped into each other earlier and I swear, the guy's built like steel because I hurt my shoulder. He apologized, got me an ice pack, and we talked for a really long time. He's really amazing and I'd like to get to know him better."

"And there are _tons_ of hotties here I would _love_ to get to know," Pete enthused, grinning. "But I love V, she's my girl . . . I haven't had a friend like her since high school with you and Clark, and now I have you guys back, so I'm all set!"

"Love you too, Pete," Vanessa said, "But you know I _hate_ it when you call me V. It's that stupid preppy rich kid bullshit I had to deal with in high school and the result of being best friends with a guy who went to a private school on the Upper East Side."

"Oh right, that Gossip Girl chick you hate so much," Pete remembered, "Sorry, V, you're just going to have to get used to it, it's my name for you."

"You're lucky we're such good friends Ross or I might have to have a throw down with you Brooklyn style," Vanessa pretended to be all thug-like, earning laughs from Pete, Chloe, and Jimmy.

"I like her," Chloe told Pete, smiling.

"It's impossible _not_ to like V," Pete replied, returning her smile. He held out his hand to Jimmy, and looking to Chloe, who shook it, "You're a lucky man, Jimmy. You _ever_ hurt her . . ."

"I won't," Jimmy promised, taking a moment to smile at Chloe, "At least never intentionally."

"That's what _I_ like to _hear_!" Pete crowed, approving of Jimmy and grinning at the newlyweds.

"I think I'm going to go find Victor," Vanessa told Pete. "It was nice to meet the two of you . . . I actually think you guys are going to make it."

"Go for it, but you only get to _date_ him if I _approve_ of him first," Pete declared to his good friend.

"Sure, sure," Vanessa replied, rolling her eyes at Pete as she disappeared into the crowd.

"Hey Chloe! Can you point out Clark's cousin? I don't really remember what she looks like," Pete requested.

Chloe found Kara in the crowd and pointed her out to Pete, who went off in her direction.

"It's time for you to introduce me to your parents, Mr. Olsen," Chloe said to Jimmy.

Jimmy looked down at the floor for a moment before meeting Chloe's eyes, "Uh . . . They didn't come."

Chloe saw the pain in Jimmy's eyes, and immediately hugged him close, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Why didn't they come?"

Jimmy shrugged, trying to make it look like he didn't much care when he explained, "My mom and dad are divorced . . . they don't really get along . . . My mom told me that if my _father_ came _she_ wouldn't and my _father_ told me that if my _mother_ came _he_ wouldn't . . . then they got into an argument over the phone about the whole thing . . . they're _really_ stubborn, so they made each other think that the other was going to come . . . so _neither_ of them did."

"Oh Jimmy," Chloe exclaimed, heart broken over her husband's revelation and hugged him again. "Why didn't you _say_ anything about it to me?"

"Because I figured it didn't matter," Jimmy admitted. "_All_ the people I _really_ care about are all here, so I thought that maybe _they_ could be my family; plus, by marrying you I get _your_ family, which I think will very nicely make up for mine."

~*~

Victor's P.O.V.

"Hey!" Vanessa greeted him, a smitten smile decorating her lips. "Are you bored of me yet?"

Victor took Vanessa in, mirroring her smitten smile, "I don't think I could _ever_ get bored of _you_."

"So I'm _not_ the only one in this conversation who's feeling some _serious_ chemistry here?" Vanessa queried, boldly.

"_Definitely_ not the only one," Victor answered, it was the first time he'd felt a connection with anyone since Katherine left him. "Can I ask a favor of you?"

"Depends on the favor," Vanessa replied, eyeing him suspiciously.

"You know the maid of honor and the best man?"

"The gorgeous brunette and the tall, hot guy with black hair and blue eyes? Yeah, I noticed them," Vanessa told him.

Victor couldn't hide the slight look of jealousy that marred his features at her description of Clark, but chose to ignore it for the time being, "Her name is Lois and his name is Clark. They're in love with each other, but they're both too scared to admit it to the other. A couple of friends of mine and I are trying to speed things along a bit."

"That's _all_ well and good, but you _still_ haven't gotten to the _favor_ part yet," Vanessa said, pointedly.

"I need _you_ to go talk and flirt and dance with Clark while _I_ go talk and flirt and dance with Lois. We're trying to make them jealous enough to finally get them to admit their feelings to each other," Victor explained.

"What's in it for me?" Vanessa demanded, she didn't normally throw herself at guys.

"After we're done dancing with Clark and Lois, I'll save a _special_ dance for you," Victor bargained, "And I _might_ even _kiss_ you if you'll allow it."

"_Sold_," Vanessa agreed, giddy at the thought of kissing him.

~*~

Clark's P.O.V.

"Hi!" Vanessa greeted Clark brightly.

"Hello," Clark greeted her back politely. "You're Pete's date right?"

"Date isn't _exactly_ the right word for it," Vanessa said, giving Clark a dazzling smile. "We're just friends, but he's pretty terrific. You're Clark, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm Clark," he confirmed, "Clark Kent."

"My name is Vanessa Abrams," she introduced herself. "Pete talks about you a _lot_."

"Really?" Clark was surprised, Pete had such a hard time keeping his secret that he was constantly afraid that he was going to slip up and say something about Clark's origins to the wrong person.

"Yeah," Vanessa continued, "He says you're an awesome guy . . . _very_ unique."

"Unique?" Clark queried, not liking her word choice, but he knew that Pete would never just say something to some random girl about his secret.

"In a good way," Vanessa said quickly, noting the wariness in Clark's tone. "He said you _always_ do the right thing no matter what and that you _love_ to help people. He says you're really selfless."

"Oh," Clark sputtered, relieved.

"After all his positive endorsements I just had to meet you for myself," Vanessa told him. "I was wondering why you aren't dancing?"

"No one's asked," Clark admitted, liking Vanessa more and more the longer he talked with her. She wasn't flirting with him, just talking, which was nice after experiencing 'Hurricane Lucy'.

"Will you dance with _me_?" Vanessa proposed. "I'd like to talk some more. It's not everyday you get to meet a local corn fed farm boy hero, and I'm a film major at NYU. I was thinking of taking a break from my dark films to do a couple of humanitarian pieces. Maybe you could give me your insight?"

"Okay," Clark agreed, letting her lead him onto the dance floor.

Vanessa danced very close to him but didn't press her body into his the way Lucy had. Clark figured her closeness had more to do with her wanting to talk privately than to try and seduce him. They danced with ease but stayed in one stationary spot on the dance floor as she began teaching him the basics of being a film major at NYU. Only a minute or so later, Lois appeared in front of him, dancing with Victor Stone. Clark couldn't help it, his sense of jealousy spiked high as he watched someone else's hands on her, the hands of someone he knew and liked. It made him so irrational that he was extremely tempted to use his heat vision on her half-man, half-machine dance partner to melt the metal in his arms so he couldn't touch her at all.

~*~

Lois' P.O.V.

"Hello," Victor greeted, gently, approaching Lois slowly.

"I'm not in the mood to be hit on," she recoiled, holding her second glass of vodka on the rocks in disappointment. She'd practically drank two bottles of champagne all by herself and she was hitting the hard alcohol as well. It was just her luck that when she really wanted, no _needed,_ to be drunk, her tolerance level wasn't giving her any headway. She was still perfectly sober.

"I wasn't going to try," Victor said casually.

"Who _are_ you anyway? I've never _seen_ you before and I remember the guest list _perfectly_," Lois asked, rudely. So maybe she was just a little bit tipsy.

"My name's Victor Stone," he introduced himself. "I know Chloe and Clark. Jimmy invited me at the last minute."

"Does that mean you know Dinah Lance? Because Jimmy apparently invited _her_ at the last minute too," Lois deduced, still rude, and also still irritated about her encounter with Dinah earlier.

"I _do_ know her," Victor admitted, realizing he was on shaky ground. "But we're not all that friendly."

"In that case, I'll dance with you," Lois told him brazenly, having noticed that Clark was on the dance floor with someone she didn't know and seemed to be having a good time. Jealousy burned through her veins again and all she felt like doing was ripping the beautiful, long, curly black hair out of the unknown woman's head. "That's what you came here for, isn't it?"

"You must be psychic," Victor intoned, impressed. "I _promise_ to keep the flirting to a minimum."

"You'd better," Lois warned, smiling at Victor. "I'm the reason Oliver Queen's face is black and blue."

"Impressive," Victor complimented as he led Lois onto the dance floor and positioned them only two feet away from Clark and Vanessa. Victor knew how to dance but he wasn't brilliant at it. They stood in one place and merely swayed to the upbeat classical number exuding itself from the speaker system.

"So what was a beautiful woman like yourself, whose name I don't even know, doing on the sidelines when she _obviously_ belongs in the spotlight?" Victor asked, his voice smooth but not smarmy. It was the perfect mix of curious and flirtatious.

"I'm Lois," she told him, "Lois Lane . . . and sometimes I just like to people watch . . . it's _interesting_ . . . and I'm not _supposed_ to be in the spotlight today . . . This is my cousin's wedding," she confided, taking a liking to Victor even though she was still burning with jealousy over Clark's new dance partner, "It would be _very_ rude of me to outshine the bride, but she's so _gorgeous_ today I don't think I could manage it anyway."

"That's very humble of you," Victor complimented her, "Which is _extremely_ sexy in a woman."

"I'm glad _someone_ thinks I'm sexy," Lois complained, secretly delighted that she was getting some attention from the opposite sex even if she preferred that the attention come from Clark and not all the random strangers she'd encountered that night.

"Girl, you've got it going _on_," Victor flirted, trying to pump Lois up. He could tell she was upset over something and was trying to hide it.

Lois blushed, "You're not so bad yourself."

"Thank you," Victor accepted the compliment easily.

Then the song ended and Lois excused herself.

"I had a lovely time dancing with you, Victor Stone," she smiled, walking off the dance floor.

"I had a lovely time as well," she heard him say as she retreated.

Lois made her way back to the Kent house. She needed a break from all the wedding splendor.

She walked through the front door and sank onto the couch without bothering to turn on any lights, holding her head in her hands and trying not to lose it.

~*~

Clark's P.O.V.

Clark excused himself from Vanessa when the song ended, "Thank you for the wonderful dance."

He noticed Lois slip out of the barn and decided to follow her. She was walking to the house, he realized, watching as she opened the front door. He slipped in the front door, and flipped on the lights to find Lois sitting exhaustedly on the couch with her head in her hands.

"Lois?" He questioned, concerned.

She sighed and looked up, her voice tired, "Hey Smallville."

"Are you okay?" He asked, taking a seat next to her.

"I'm just feeling _really_ overwhelmed, that's all," she explained. "I think it's just all the pressure of planning and executing all this wedding stuff finally catching up with me. I've been so _focused_ on it I haven't been getting much sleep. I just needed a little break, that's all."

Clark frowned as she spoke. She didn't sound like herself . . . she sounded _defeated_. It was something he'd never heard in her voice before, not even when she and Oliver had broken up for the second time.

"Have you talked to Lana?" Lois asked, the defeat still in her voice.

"No," Clark told her.

"You should give her a chance, Clark," Lois encouraged, hating the words coming out of her mouth.

"I'll think about it," Clark said, his voice flat. He really wasn't all that interested in talking to Lana, and she didn't appear to want to talk to him either since she'd had all night to do it and hadn't made an effort.

"She's _scared_, Clark," Lois divulged, a bitter taste in her mouth. "She doesn't know _how_ to talk to you."

Clark was annoyed. He'd come to the house because he wanted to be with Lois and _all_ she could talk about was _Lana_.

"I said I would think about it," Clark barked, sharply, causing Lois to flinch. "I came here because I was worried about _you_."

"You don't have to worry about _me_, Smallville," Lois reassured him, lamely. "I'm a big girl . . . I can take care of myself."

"You like to think that, but you're not invincible, Lois. Sometimes you _do_ need someone to take care of you. Everyone needs a shoulder to cry on once in awhile," Clark retorted, putting his arm around her shoulders.

They both felt the same electric zing they'd felt the other times they'd touched that day, but Clark refused to recoil from it this time. He wanted to be there for the woman he loved even though every second he kept in contact with her skin was driving him crazy with desire. Lois didn't object to his touch, but it drove her mad with lust until she remembered that soon Clark would talk to Lana and he would be lost to her forever. She leaned into him and began to sob. Clark tightened his arm around her shoulders and cradled her face in his free hand, having no idea that she was crying over _him_.

After several minutes, Lois pulled away, the tears still pouring down her cheeks.

"Thanks, Smallville," Lois appreciated his support even though he didn't know that she was crying over him. "I'd like to be _alone_ for a little while if you don't mind. If I'm not back at the reception in fifteen minutes, you can come back to get me."

"Okay," Clark agreed, reluctantly removing his arm from her shoulders and standing up. He looked back at her once before disappearing out the front door and returning to the reception.

~*~

Lois' P.O.V.

Lois couldn't bear to watch Clark leave so she hung her head in her hands until she heard the front door shut. She picked herself up off the couch and made her way up the stairs, locking herself in the master bathroom again and crying by herself as she had before. After five minutes, she forced herself to stop and reapplied her makeup for the second time that day.

She couldn't believe that she was trying to get Lana and Clark back together, but she had to after hearing Lana's side of the story. She hated it so much, but Clark had _always_ wanted Lana and he deserved a 'Happily Ever After.' She loved him enough to let him be with the person who would make him happiest even if she wasn't the one who could give that to him.

Nauseous at the idea of him with someone else, she rushed to yank the toilet seat up so she could vomit without making too big a mess. After five minutes, she was certain that all the food and alcohol she had eaten that day had been voided from her system. She dragged her hand across her mouth and looked into the mirror. Thankfully, the tears that had accumulated during her vomiting spell hadn't left her with raccoon eyes, there was no need to reapply her mascara. She washed her hands, rinsed her mouth out to get rid of the rancid taste of bile in her throat, and headed back to the party.

Lois still tasted the remnants of the vomit in her mouth, and her empty stomach groaned in protest as she eyed a large platter of fresh strawberries just laid out on the snacks table by the head caterer, Mrs. Henney. Their heavenly smell called out to her . . . there was no sweeter scent on Earth to her than that of fresh strawberries, and Lois gorged herself on them, even dipping them in champagne. It wasn't much of a comfort, but it helped a little, and at that moment Lois had to take whatever comfort was offered to her or that night would be the end of her.

~*~

Pete's P.O.V.

Pete noticed Lucy Lane standing by herself on the landing that led up to the Loft. She was leaning her elbows against the wooden hand rail, just watching everyone else, apparently sharing her older sister's fondness for people watching. She looked lonely.

Pete climbed up the few steps and joined her, resting his own elbows on the wooden hand rail as well. He didn't speak for a while, just getting used to her presence. After about ten minutes, he started talking.

"Hello," he greeted politely, turning his body slightly toward her so he could judge her facial expressions.

Lucy turned too, and immediately gave Pete her signature sexy smile before purring, "Hi, I'm Lucy."

"I'm Pete," he said, returning her smile. "You don't have to _do_ that you know?"

"Do what?" She asked innocently, still purring and giving Pete a sexy look.

"I've been watching you all night," Pete admitted, letting a slight blush creep up his cheeks, ". . . and I think I've _finally_ got you figured out."

Lucy dropped the sexy smile and just looked at him, speaking normally, "What does _that_ mean?"

"It means I think you're scared to let people in, to let them get to know the _real_ you . . . so you put on this revved up sex kitten act so no one ever bothers to look past how slutty you want them to _think _you are," Pete assessed, watching her face for a reaction.

Lucy was quiet for a moment, her face expressionless, "Where'd you learn _that_ trick?"

"It's _not_ a trick," Pete insisted, softly. "I can just read people well."

"And here _I_ was thinking my façade was flawless," Lucy mumbled, to herself and Pete.

"It is," Pete assured her, still speaking in a gentle tone. He didn't want to scare her away. "But my good friend Clark taught me to look _past_ people's façades. All it took was one look into your eyes when you thought no one was watching . . . they're sincere you know, which says a lot about the _real _you."

Lucy smiled genuinely, no trace of sex in sight, "So what made you decide to keep tabs on me?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Pete asked, surprised she didn't already know.

"Not really," Lucy admitted, a little shy. Pete was a very attractive young man and he was making her nervous in a good way. "I don't normally talk to people like this."

"Initially it was your looks," Pete explained, "But the fact that you're hot wasn't what intrigued me."

"What _was_ it then?" She really wanted to know. No one had ever bothered before.

"You're hot _and_ cold . . . like you can't decide who you really want to be," Pete said wisely, "_Behind_ that sex kitten façade of yours anyway."

"I've never met anyone like you before," Lucy divulged, suddenly feeling like sharing her deepest, darkest secrets with Pete. "It's like, everyone just _expects_ the worst from me, you know? _So_ I just give them what they want."

"It doesn't have to be that way," Pete responded, voice genuine. "Instead of surprising people by grabbing Clark's ass and grazing his crotch, why don't you surprise them with who you _really_ are?"

"What if they don't _like_ who I really am?" Lucy worried.

"I've been standing here for the last ten minutes talking to the real you and _I_ like who you really are . . . you'd be impressed at how much people can _surprise_ you sometimes."

"What if I'm not _ready_? What if I'm _scared_?" Lucy wrung her hands, her face crumbling in doubt.

On a whim, Pete slowly reached out and grabbed Lucy's hands with both of his, effectively stopping the wringing motion. He separated them and held one of her hands in each of his. It was like a lightning bolt had hit them both at each other's touch.

"It's okay to be scared," Pete promised, "And if you're not ready, why don't you practice on _me_?"

Lucy smiled again, "I'd like that. It's a little more private up in the Loft . . . would you like to go there with me to talk some more?"

"It would be my pleasure," Pete said, letting go of one of her hands and delicately entwining their fingers together on the other. Lucy led the way through the opalescent curtains, for once without a single thought about being sexy or trying to seduce Pete. She was beginning to become sort of sweet on him, in a pure, romantic way, and the feeling was mutual.

~*~

Oliver's P.O.V.

"Dinah, do me a favor?" Oliver didn't ask really, he kind of commanded, which didn't set well with Dinah at all.

"Just because you're our fearless leader doesn't mean you get to boss me around when we're off duty," she broiled.

"You kind of _are_ on duty," he reminded her. "Would it help if I told you said favor would annoy the _hell_ out of Lois Lane?" Ollie dangled the irresistible carrot in front of Dinah's nose.

After their little confrontation earlier that evening, Dinah was ready to do anything to annoy the other brunette, "What do you want me to do?"

"Flirt with Clark, and dance with him," Oliver instructed, "In a place Lois can't miss. Be brazen if you have to."

"Yes _sir_," Dinah saluted before heading down the stairs toward Clark.

Oliver sidled up to A.C., who had a glass of water in his hand.

"What's up, Oliver?" The H2O obsessed young man greeted, taking a sip from his glass.

"How do you feel about dancing with our ex?" Oliver asked.

"It'd be nice to catch up," A.C. thought out loud, thinking how long it had been since he and Lois had talked.

"Have at it," Oliver ordered, genially, "And A.C., make sure Clark sees."

A.C. nodded. He knew about Oliver and Jimmy's plot to play matchmaker for Lois and Clark and he wasn't opposed to it as long as his friends ended up happy. He finished off the water in his glass, set it to the side, and made his way toward Lois.

Oliver watched A.C. and Dinah's progress as he moved through the party guests to find Jimmy and give him an update on Project Clois.

"Hey Olsen!" Oliver beckoned.

"What's up, Oliver?" Jimmy asked, already knowing what he was there for.

"I thought you might like an update on our little endeavor," Oliver said.

"Well, I did _my_ part," Jimmy told the other man, "I sent all the guys at _The Planet_ who have ever even given Lois _one_ once-over to talk, flirt and dance with her."

"Clark didn't miss a _moment_ of it," Oliver informed Jimmy, knowing that because it was his wedding day, he wouldn't have been able to pay close attention to the execution of his part of the plan.

"How's it going on _your_ end?" Jimmy queried, curiously.

"It's going well," Oliver said, proudly. "I got Lucy Lane to _practically_ have sex with Clark on the dance floor right in front of Lois, who was dancing with Pete Ross at the time. Then Victor and Vanessa, Pete's plus one, had their dances with them. I just sent Dinah and A.C. to occupy our stubborn duo's time in a very small amount of space . . . Dinah and Lois aren't on each others lists of favorite people, so it will annoy the _hell_ out of her to see Dinah dancing with Clark, and A.C. is Lois' ex, so that will probably drive Clark up the wall seeing _them_ dance together," Oliver elaborated, grinning his faux-evil playful grin.

"You're _really_ good at this," Jimmy said, noting how good the other man was at persuading others to do his bidding. He wasn't like Lex, who had to threaten, pay or kill to get others to do what he wanted, he was just very charismatic.

"I am, aren't I?" Oliver joked, his cockiness just an act.

~*~

Clark's P.O.V.

Clark stood in the shadows alternating looking at Lana and Lois. He was glad that Lois had made it back to the reception seemingly in one piece, and he was giving some serious thought to her advice about Lana. Maybe he _should_ give her a chance to explain, but he didn't have time to ponder on it anymore when Dinah Lance wound her way toward him.

"Dinah, hey!" Clark greeted, as she made to stand in front of him. "How's the party treating you?"

"Not bad," the fake brunette answered, her voice a little flirty, "It'd be _much_ better if you came and danced with me."

Clark desperately wanted something to distract him from his worrying over Lana and Lois, so he readily agreed, "I think that can be arranged."

This time he was the one who lead Dinah onto the dance floor but she kept pace with him stride for stride.

"Let's see how smooth you are on those feet of yours when you're _not_ zipping around faster than a speeding bullet," Dinah purred, though nothing compared to Lucy's ultra sexed-up kitty noises.

"I have to give you fair warning," Clark smiled, leaning in close to her ear and whispering, "Sometimes I'm a major klutz, so I apologize in advance if I step on your feet."

"So _that's_ the 'Man of Steel's' _real_ secret, is it?" Dinah laughed, enjoying herself.

"I'm a man of _many_ secrets, Ms. Lance," Clark revealed playfully, still smiling at her.

Clark may not have been twirling her around the dance floor but he was maneuvering her expertly in their chosen spot, and was dancing with ease.

"I think this is the _longest_ I've ever seen a smile on your face," Dinah giggled, it was nice to see him let loose a little. "In fact, I don't think I've _ever_ seen a smile on your face."

"_Apparently_, I'm too _serious_," Clark laughed, leaning into her ear again, "Or so I've been told."

"That's what happens to a man who takes the world on his shoulders, especially if that world isn't his true one," Dinah said, wisely.

Clark nodded as the smile on his face died, "Yeah . . . one of these days I'll be ready to be part of the League full-time, but until then I've got to continue discovering what I'm capable of. I'll have to just settle for being the Red-Blue Blur for now."

"We understand that you can't be with us all the time, Clark," Dinah consoled him. "Even a man with your . . . _talents_ can't be everywhere at once . . . no matter how hard he might try. You have to accept the fact that you _can't_ save everyone, and _focus_ on those you _do_ save. They're the ones that will remember you."

"While the ones I _don't_ suffer the consequences . . . Sometimes I wonder what the world would be like without me here . . . if it would be _better_ . . . I had a dream once, a vision actually, of what the world would be like without me, and it was _horrible_ . . . but the vision came from a biased source and sometimes I still wonder . . ."

"Hey! Most of the people in this room would be _dead_ several times over if it weren't for you . . . if _nothing_ else helps . . . think of all the people you _love_ who are alive because you're _not_ afraid to be a hero," Dinah soothed.

"I never thought I'd be having this conversation with _you_," Clark muttered, a bit embarrassed.

"Who would you have had it with?" Dinah asked.

"I don't know . . . I always pictured having it with the woman I love, I guess," Clark admitted, imagining telling Lois his secret and her comforting him the way Dinah was now.

"Rumor has it she's here . . . she may have been a little late, but she's still here," Dinah pointed out, thinking, like _most_ everyone else, that he was referring to Lana.

"Yeah," Clark sighed, "Yeah, she is."

Clark looked around for Lois and spotted her dancing with A.C., immediately setting his blood to the boiling point with jealousy. She and A.C. had a past together and he wondered, watching them, if she still carried a torch for the aquatic junkie. She was smiling and laughing and dancing like she was having the time of her life and it made him feel sick that it wasn't him touching her, holding her, making her laugh like she didn't have a care in the world. Once again, he was tempted to use his heat vision to dry out A.C. until he was all scaly and water-starved, but his sense of right and wrong rang true. He couldn't blame A.C. for _his_ lack of action on his feelings for Lois, but that fact didn't stop the jealousy from consuming him. The song was over before he and Dinah knew it, and he kissed her hand.

"Thank you for the dance, Dinah. It was fun," Clark stated, truthfully.

"Anytime, Superman," Dinah smiled, liking the sound of the nickname she'd just coined, the alcohol she'd been consuming all night making her bolder than she already was.

~*~

Lois' P.O.V

"Well, if it isn't Lois Lane," A.C. quipped, grinning at the woman he regretted leaving to save the world.

Lois shook her head, bemused, "Arthur Currie . . . let me guess, Jimmy invited you at the last minute?"

"You're good," A.C. said, glad that she was happy to see him. He still remembered the feel of her lips on his when they said goodbye all those years ago.

"Nah," Lois admitted, "You're not the _only_ one he invited at the last minute and neglected to tell me about."

"I'm hurt," A.C. pretended, his face falling. "I thought you were actually _glad_ to see me."

Lois laughed abruptly, "Of course, I'm glad to see you, silly. You're the first guy I ever met who wanted to save the world. You raised the bar for every other guy, A.C., and by the way, I _wasn't_ referring to _you_ when I admitted I'm horrible at choosing the right men."

"That's good to know," A.C. told her.

"_You're_ one of the good ones," Lois complimented, genuinely. "I'm surprised no one has snatched you up yet."

"Not yet," he laughed, holding out his hand. "So what do you say? Dance with me? For old times sake?" A.C. offered, still grinning and looking rather dapper in his tuxedo.

"How could a girl resist?" Lois accepted, taking his hand, a small smile on her face.

A.C. was much like Clark when it came to dancing, in that he may not have been twirling Lois around the dance floor but was maneuvering her expertly in their chosen spot, and was dancing with ease, though he had a penchant for stepping on feet.

"I hate to say it, but I think you're better at swimming A.C.," Lois shared as A.C. stepped on her foot for the second time. "Watch the pedicure!"

"Sorry," A.C. apologized, blushing. "I promise I'll be more careful."

"Am I making you _blush_?" Lois chuckled, teasing him and noticing his face getting turning a deeper shade of crimson. "I am, aren't I?

"Do you even have to bother asking?," A.C. queried, "Can't you just _see_ it on my face?"

"I'm sorry A.C.," Lois was quickly repentant. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."

A.C. shrugged, "Give me a lake or an ocean to swim in and I'm fine, but dress me up in a monkey suit and stick me in the middle of a wedding where I hardly know anyone; add a _gorgeous_ woman to the mix and the term 'socially awkward' comes to mind."

Lois laughed again, the sound musical and thrilling, "I'm not worth getting all worked up over."

"Yes you are," A.C. insisted, vehemently. "You've got a good heart beating in that chest of yours, and . . . just so you know . . . _You_ raised the bar for every other girl," he admitted.

Lois gazed at A.C. suspiciously, "Are you trying to _woo_ me?"

"_Unfortunately_, no," he said, truly looking as though he wished he could. "I know what kind of guy you need, and I'm not it."

"What makes you think _that_?" Lois inquired, curious what made him think he wasn't her type.

"Oliver told me when you guys broke up again that it was because you couldn't bear to be left behind," A.C. said quietly. "All I'd be doing is leaving you behind, and I could never endure putting you through that."

"How do you know Ollie?" Lois requested an answer, having no idea that her exes knew each other.

"Oliver and I met at a charity event for endangered ocean ecosystems and water species like manatees," A.C. lied smoothly. "He offered me a job running his charitable marine life organization. I basically plan benefits to raise funds for endangered marine life all over the world."

"There you go again, wanting to save the world one fish at a time," Lois muttered, amused. "I'm proud of you."

"Why?" A.C. asked. "Because I actually _am_ saving the world one fish at a time?"

"Well, there's that," Lois acknowledged. "But mostly because you haven't sold out. You're still standing up for what you believe in, albeit now you're doing it without the possibility of arrest for terrorism."

A.C. laughed, his blush fading. Lois laughed right along with him until she saw Clark dancing with Dinah Lance. She forced herself to keep on laughing as naturally as possible but if looks could kill, Dinah would have been a mere skeleton wasting away to ash on the dance floor. Jealousy churned in her stomach so badly she thought she might throw up again, and her hands started to shake in A.C.'s.

"You alright, darlin'?" A.C. asked, feeling Lois' hands shaking.

"I'm fine," she insisted, forcing herself to smile. She felt light headed, and was thankful that the song was ending. "I had a lot of fun, A.C.. Thanks for the dance, but right now I think I'm just going to go sit."

"You sure you're okay?" A.C. asked, studying her.

"Never better," Lois responded, adding a fake smile and a laugh to go along with it.

"Alright," A.C. looked reluctant to leave her, but he did anyway. He had to go to Oliver and tell him the story he made up for how the two of them met considering Lois' stubborn curiosity.

Lois made her way to the first chair she saw, which happened to be next to Lana, and sank into it, taking deep breaths and trying to ignore the other girl's presence, which only served to put her more on edge. Lois really thought she was going to throw up again when she saw Clark kiss Dinah's hand as he bade her adieu. Dinah made sure to pass by her.

"Looks like I'm the one who got to dance with Prince Charming while you're over here just sitting on the sidelines like an ugly stepsister," Dinah gloated. "He hasn't gone _near_ you all night . . . it must be _killing_ you that he chose _me_. If you ever want to see who'd _really_ win our verbal and physical sparring match, you'll find me with Ollie. He seems to like _me_ better too."

Lois glared at Dinah but was too afraid to speak for fear of throwing up again, though now that she thought about it, if she _did_ projectile vomit, it would most certainly ruin Dinah's dress and _that_ would _definitely_ make her feel better. Dinah, however, was long gone by the time she'd come up with this plan, so she'd have to just sit there feeling sick until the jealousy stopped twisting her stomach into knots.

"Wow," Lana said, shaking her head in disbelief, "She's a real bitch."

"You have no idea," Lois intoned, "But she does her job well. I actually don't think she's a bad person, we just rub each other the wrong way . . . and she likes to make condescending remarks about my place in the bullpen at _The Planet_. She likes to throw that in my face, like I'm not a _real_ journalist just because I don't have my own talk show."

~*~

Bart's P.O.V.

"What's a guy got to do to get a dance with the bride?" Bart asked, coming up behind Chloe.

Chloe smiled and turned to face the young man who had tried to seduce her on more than one occasion. She couldn't say she wasn't expecting him to try something like this once she'd discovered he was a guest.

"Bart, hey!"

"So how about it? Care to dance with an old flame?" Bart smiled his playful, confident smile.

"An old flame?" Jimmy questioned Chloe, staring at Bart suspiciously.

"More of an extinguished ember," Chloe clarified to her husband.

"Ah, come on! You _know_ you wanted me!" Bart argued. "One dance, and if you don't have a good time I'll be gracious and let you go about your business . . . but I have to say you're looking _damned_ fine today, gorgeous."

"Fine, maybe, at _one_ point, I may have succumbed to your ruthless flattery, but you fixed _that_ by coming on _way_ too strong," Chloe argued back, defending herself. "I will, however, accept your compliment and grant you _one_ dance . . . but if you do _anything_ inappropriate I'll sic Clark on you!"

"We both know that Clark doesn't have a chance in _hell_ of catching me," Bart bragged, knowing that Chloe's memory had been eradicated of everything about the _real_ Clark Kent. Oliver had made sure to pass along the information Clark had shared about Chloe's memory so that the Justice Leaguers didn't slip up and accidentally spill the beans.

"True," Chloe admitted, allowing Bart to lead her onto the dance floor.

Bart was an excellent dancer and he loved to show off, so he did. He couldn't resist spiraling Chloe all over the place just a little too fast on the dance floor.

"So you're _really_ happy with _that_ guy?" He asked.

"Yes," Chloe stated, dutifully.

"I guess that means tearing up your marriage license, scooping you up, running lightning fast to Vegas and eloping with me is _out_ of the question?"

"Yep, I'm _afraid_ so," Chloe laughed.

"Damn!" Bart cursed good-naturedly. "If I'd _known_ you were being courted by someone _else_, I would have taken a break from saving the world to come back to Smallville to make you all _mine_."

Chloe smiled and shook her head. It was the only reaction she could come up with to deal with his shameless flirting and over-the-top flattery.

"You may have gotten lucky," she teased. "Maybe if you'd toned it down a bit the _first_ time we met, this would be _our_ wedding."

Bart smiled, "I'm happy for you Chloe. Thanks for humoring me and attempting to make me feel good."

"You're my friend, Bart . . . I'm glad you're here . . . as long as you recognize that I'm a married woman and am now,_ officially_, off the market," Chloe lectured, giving Bart a look. "My heart belongs to Jimmy Olsen . . . _I'm Mrs. Olsen_!" She laughed happily as she said the words out loud for the first time.

"Well, _Mrs. Olsen_, as much as I hate to do it and how tempted I am to rip up your marriage license and rush you off to Vegas for a quickie wedding of _our_ own, I _guess_ I'll let you get back to your husband . . . but you have cousins, right?" Chloe laughed and nodded . . . Bart was incorrigible.

"Mind pointing one of them out?" He requested, boldly.

Chloe searched the crowd for Lois and Lucy. Lucy was no where to be seen, but Lois was sitting at a table in a chair next to Lana. She pointed her out to Bart as he let her go, and dashed back to her husband.

Bart swaggered up to Lois and smiled.

"Hi, I'm Bart," he greeted, his voice full of cocky confidence.

"Another one of Jimmy's last minute party guests?" Lois assessed, her eyebrows arching.

"Yeah," Bart admitted, flirting, "I'm a friend of Chloe's. Since the bride is already taken I thought I might have a shot with a blood relation and I _must_ say . . . you are _muy_ _calienté_! What's you're name beautiful?"

"Lois," Lois told him, "And there's _no_ way little man."

"Can't you give a guy a _break_? I'm a _really_ good dancer and I could take you places a girl could only _dream_ of," Bart said smoothly.

"You're pretty smooth," Lois confessed, "But there's no way in hell . . . no offense. I like my men a little older, say around _my_ age."

"Cold, man," Bart complained, unruffled. "Too bad . . . we could have had a _ton_ of fun together . . . Your loss."

"I'm sure it is," Lois said, rolling her eyes and laughing.

Bart shrugged and walked away.

~*~

Clark's P.O.V.

Clark watched Bart dance with Chloe and then hit on Lois. He used his super-hearing to catch Bart's pick up line and laughed when she turned him down. He was standing in a shadowed corner, hiding and watching everyone else, when he felt a hand on his upper arm. He turned to find John Jones, the Martian Manhunter, standing in front of him in his plain-clothes suit he wore when he was on duty for the Metropolis Police Department.

"Kal-El, may I have a word in private?" John requested, his face and voice serious.

"Yes, of course," Clark agreed, "But let's talk in my house where no one will overhear us."

John nodded his approval and followed Clark to the Kent house. Clark motioned for the other man to take a seat but he refused so Clark remained standing as well.

"What is it, John?" Clark asked, seriously.

"Something's coming . . . and it's _big_," John intoned, ". . . so big it could be the _death_ of you."

"What do you know?" Clark queried, slightly worried.

"All I know is a name and a rumor," John admitted.

"Tell me," Clark demanded, respectfully.

"The rumor is that you aren't the_ only_ Kryptonian that arrived on this planet in the first meteor shower, and I'm _not_ talking about your cousin, Kara," John explained. "Zod and his wife, Faora, created a being out of all the nastiest species on Krypton and attached it to your ship right before Krypton died and exploded. The being's name is Doomsday, and the rumor continues on to say that you must defeat him in order to claim your rightful destiny and fulfill the prophecy of the House of El."

"So something's out to kill me," Clark asserted, darkly. "How do we find this Doomsday creature?"

"It's going to be hard, Kal-El," John predicted. "Just like you and Kara, this being appears human and it's almost impossible to say whether it takes on a feminine or masculine form. However, if we think like Zod for a moment it's safe to presume the being is male considering Zod wanted to build an empire of his _own_ on Krypton, and one can only _create_ an empire with a male heir to the throne."

"If everything you've said is true and Zod already created an heir with his Kryptonian wife, why did Zod want to create an heir with Lana when he took over Lex Luthor's body two years ago?"

"Zod was sent to the Phantom Zone before his wife, Faora, was . . . it's possible he didn't know his heir was already on Earth," John conjectured, ". . . _or_ he didn't approve of the heir he created and wrote him off as a botched science experiment. It's hard to say . . . Zod was a perfectionist and a sadist . . . I wouldn't put it past him to neglect a son who didn't live up to his expectations, and his expectations were _exorbitantly_ high . . . The man that child became most likely does not even have a clue as to his real origins, and what his destiny truly is . . . He may be the complete _opposite_ of his father . . . a _humanitarian_ for all _we_ know. The only thing I know for _sure_ is that he's older than you, but only by a few years."

"Is there anything we can do _now_ to help track down this being and attempt to reason with it before things get out of hand?" Clark asked, hoping for a positive answer.

"There are some things I've been keeping from you, Kal-El . . . things I _had_ to keep from you until the time was right," John revealed cryptically.

"What _kinds_ of things?" Clark demanded, again, respectfully.

"Different types of kryptonite . . . _beneficial_ kinds . . . ones that could possibly speed up your training so that you'll be _fully_ prepared to deal with the threat against you," John explained.

"Why didn't you say anything about them _before_? I could have been saving the world for years by now instead of just moonlighting as The Red-Blue Blur in Metropolis and _only_ Metropolis," Clark asked, frustration evident in his tone.

"Because your father had a plan for you Kal-El . . . one that involved you _naturally_ maturing into your destiny, which I must say you've done quite a lot of recently, but you're still not what you are _meant_ to be, and your father was a cautious man . . . he always had a back up plan for _everything_, which is why he entrusted me with these special forms of kryptonite in case you weren't ready when the prophecy came to pass."

"I'm only _now_ beginning to realize how _great_ a man my birth father truly was," Clark lamented. "I got a chance to meet my birth mother, Lara, but all I have of my father is his artificially-intelligent _disembodied_ voice . . . I wish I could have had the same chance with _him_ as I did my mother."

"For _your_ sake, I wish that were possible as well . . . Jor-El was indeed a great man, a man a son could be _proud_ to have as his father," John told Clark.

"I'm _assuming_ you brought a sample of one of the special forms of kryptonite with you tonight . . . otherwise you wouldn't have_ bothered _mentioning them in the first place," Clark articulated, intelligently.

"You are correct, Kal-El," John returned, impressed with the young man's adeptness at logic.

"So there's green, red, black, and silver kryptonite as far as I know," Clark mused. "What other colors of the rainbow exist?"

"I brought only three of the colors I possess: purple, yellow, and white," John pulled the three meteor rocks out of his pocket. They were small, but they would be effective.

"So what is purple supposed to do to me?" Clark asked, warily.

"Purple is the color of royalty, good judgment, spiritual fulfillment, and symbolizes magic and mystery. Once exposed to purple kryptonite you will no longer be susceptible to magic, but may or may not be able to create it," John intoned. "Purple is the combination of red and blue, the warmest and coolest colors, two of the most important colors on Krypton and especially in the House of El," John explained, holding up a small purple rock with veins of violet streaked throughout it. "Violet is the color of purpose, and is also used in the psychic field. Exposure to it may give you the ability to see the human identity of Doomsday," John added. "The combination of the two will speed along your development, and, _unlike_ all the _other_ forms of kryptonite you've encountered thus far, its combined effect will be _permanent_."

He approached Clark, and looked into his eyes, asking for permission. Clark nodded his assent and John pressed the purple kryptonite into his chest. An eerie violet glow enveloped Clark but he didn't feel any pain, just a rush of adrenaline as his body drained the rock until it was black and dead looking. It was as though he'd developed a new consciousness, and a new sense of purpose. He didn't have words for the other things he was feeling.

"And the yellow?" Clark queried, almost excited to hear what it would do to him after experiencing the purple kryptonite.

"Yellow symbolizes wisdom, clarity, and awareness. The orange-yellow veins represent a sense of establishment," John expounded. "This was also an important color on Krypton as well as in the House of El. Exposure to this color of kryptonite will enhance the powers you already have since your powers come from the yellow sun and this form of kryptonite was made by exposure to the yellow sun. As with the purple, the effects of this kryptonite are permanent." Again he asked Clark with his eyes for permission to press the rock into his chest.

At Clark's insistent nod, John pressed the yellow rock into Kal-El's chest. It was like Clark was being bathed in a beam of pure sunlight, and he didn't feel any pain this time either, just a sense of enveloping warmth like he were sunbathing at Crater Lake. It was a nice feeling, but, just as the purple had, the yellow turned black and dead looking as Clark's body drained it of its power. He felt his new stronger senses of wisdom, clarity, and awareness in his mind and his senses. He also felt stronger. He felt like a new man.

"And the white?" Clark asked, excitedly.

"White is the color of purity, kindness, loyal love, wholeness, completion, openness and truth, all the qualities a true, dignified, royal Kryptonian possesses. Exposure to this color of kryptonite will complete the transformation process," John explained. "The effects of this kryptonite are also permanent."

This time Clark took John's hand and helped press the rock into his chest. He expected to be encompassed in a bright white light, but when he looked down his body had disappeared . . . all that was visible was John's hand holding the white kryptonite in the air as it rapidly turned black and dead, his body absorbing the energy from it even faster than the previous two. All of a sudden he was there again, standing in the middle of his living room, feeling amazing but not able to put it into words.

John pulled something very small out of his other pocket and held his open palm out for Clark to take what was inside. It was a man's ring and it looked as though the stone in it was white kryptonite as well. Clark looked up at John in confusion.

"This ring belonged to your father, and your grandfather before him, and so on and so forth," John explained. "White kryptonite has some properties that make it _different_ from all the rest . . . that make it _stand out_. The white stone in this ring contains the entire history of the House of El. Instead of writing in a journal, all of your ancestors projected their thoughts, feelings, emotions, and memories into that stone. The metal that makes up the band is the same metal that was used to create the ship you arrived on Earth in, the _most precious_ metal of Krypton. When you wear the ring, you will be able to access your _entire_ family history. It is an ancient heirloom that is to be passed from father to son in each generation. Guard it well."

Clark palmed the ring and super-sped up the stairs to place it in his keepsake box. He couldn't try the ring on in the middle of Chloe's wedding, though he was dying to. He super-sped back down in front of John.

"How do you feel?" John asked, curiously.

"Incredible," Clark announced in wonder.

"Excellent," John cried in happiness, "This is a day of celebration . . . for today you become the _true_ heir to the House of El. Congratulations, Kal-El! Your mother and father would be very proud."

He smiled at the young man who seemed dazzled by the whole new world he was experiencing for the first time.

"I feel honored that _this_ is what my father _wanted_ for me when he sent me here," Clark crooned happily, feeling love for his birth father for the first time since he'd heard his disembodied voice.

"As you should," John encouraged, exultant. "You will probably get even stronger when next you are exposed the yellow sun."

"Just out of curiosity, what are the other colors of kryptonite you possess?" Clark asked.

"Blue, brown, and pink," John listed, "But they are to be saved for your battle with Doomsday and the fulfillment of the prophecy. If I were you, I'd get my hands on a piece of black kryptonite, and I'd keep your cousin Kara around. I have a feeling we'll need all the help we can get."

"Speaking of help," Clark said, "I flew today . . . I know you lost your powers by taking me to the yellow sun to bring me back to life . . . I was thinking that now that I'm airborne I could return the favor . . . after all, wouldn't a return to your home planet restore your abilities?"

"It would indeed," John confirmed. "Your offer is much appreciated but we'll make plans for that another day. I believe you have a _wedding_ to get back to."

"That _I_ do," Clark attested, serenely. "It won't be long before Chloe and Jimmy have to cut the cake," Clark said, looking at his father, Jonathan Kent's, watch. "Stay John. I'll rustle up a plate from the reception dinner and make sure you have access to all the champagne you can drink."

"I'll stay, but it won't be a wedding I'm celebrating for," John uttered, proudly. He had watched Kal-El grow from a thoughtful little boy to an honorable man, to grow to accept his birthright and search for it . . . he _would_ be celebrating . . . but it would be for that _thoughtful_ toddler and the _honorable_ man standing before him.

They walked together back to the barn and re-entered the reception.

~*~

Lana's P.O.V.

Lana had been sitting in the same place ever since her conversation with Lois earlier that evening, the place she'd inhabited during the dinner part of the reception. She'd watched everyone and everything but, mostly, her attention was riveted on Clark as she battled internally on how to approach him after her long absence. She had lost count of how many glasses of champagne she'd consumed and she felt warm and mellow all over, despite her nerves. As she watched the man she loved interact with people she didn't know and many she did, she realized she had no _clue_ what to say or _how_ to make him understand, which made her feel like crying. She actually wished she were invisible for a little while, so she wasn't, metaphorically, the big pink elephant in the corner of the room that everyone knew was there but refused to acknowledge, like she knew she was.

Lana watched as Clark danced with Chloe and his mother, she watched as Lucy Lane mauled Clark on the dance floor, as he danced with Pete's friend and plus one Vanessa, and finally as he danced with Dinah Lance. She noticed that every time Clark was on the dance floor, Lois was also, with a different dance partner every time just like Clark. It almost seemed deliberate, but not by Lois or Clark themselves. It seemed more like someone or someone(s) were trying to play matchmaker between the two reporters, and it hadn't escaped her how close the pair of them had grown in her prolonged absence. She had seen Clark go after Lois when she left the barn for God knows where and why. She was ashamed to admit it, but she had been _glad_ when he returned alone.

All his interaction with other women had made her supremely jealous, so jealous she saw _red_. The funny thing was that Lois seemed to_ support _her, and she'd been _more_ than ready to call Dinah a bitch when she'd called Lois out after her sexy dance with Clark. It made Lana feel certain that Lois had feelings for Clark _too_, yet she was pushing for her and Clark to get back together. Lois was still sitting next to her when Lana _finally_ decided to make her move. Clark had just reentered the room with a man she thought she recognized, and _now_ was the time for her to _go_ for it.

"I'm going to do it," Lana said out loud, to herself and to Lois. "I'm just going to _do_ it... I _should_ do it right?"

"Yes," Lois responded, hollowly, hating herself. "You _should_ do it and _make_ him listen... you _know_ how stubborn he is."

"Wish me luck?" Lana pleaded with Lois, the only support system she had at the moment.

Lois smiled at her, sadly, and shook her head, "You don't need it."

Lana nodded several times in preparation to approach Clark, "Right," she said, blowing out an enormous breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, "I don't need it . . . Are you _sure_ I don't need it because I _feel_ like I need it."

"You _don't_," Lois reassured her, still smiling sadly. "Go _get_ him."

Lana took in another enormous breath and blew it out, took a large sip of champagne, wrung her hands once before she got up from her chair and walked as steadily as she could in Clark's direction. She came up beside him as he talked to the man she thought she recognized.

~*~

Jimmy's P.O.V.

Jimmy was with Oliver discussing where to go next with their plan when he noticed Lana approaching Clark and heading out onto the dance floor.

"Uh oh," Jimmy pointed the problem out to Oliver.

"This _can't_ be good," Oliver agreed. "Think fast or Project Clois is going to hit an iceberg and sink like the Titanic."

Jimmy thought for a moment and went with the only thing he could think of. He rushed off toward the D.J., saying to Oliver as he hurried away, "I've got an idea."

Jimmy made it to the D.J. and requested a song – "Where I Stood" by Missy Higgins, a song Chloe was addicted to at the moment. He _hoped_ Lana would hear the words and realize that Clark was beyond her reach now, _not_ that he didn't wish the raven-haired beauty happiness, just not happiness with _Clark_.

~*~

Lana's P.O.V.

"Clark?" She said, her voice seeming very small and insignificant.

The man nodded at Clark and left, almost as though he was wishing him luck.

"Lana," Clark said her name without any emotion and turned so they were facing each other.

"I . . . I um . . . I was wondering . . . if _maybe_ you might want to dance," she stuttered.

"Okay," Clark agreed, taking her hand as they walked onto the dance floor.

He put his hand on her waist and took her right hand in his, holding it up as they moved slowly to the peppy classical song that was playing. They both noted that it was a bit awkward between them.

_I don't know what I've done  
Or if I like what I've begun  
But something told me to run  
And honey you know me it's all or none_

"So . . . you're back," he said, his voice toneless.

"Yes," she breathed, meeting his eyes and knowing he would hear her no matter how quietly she spoke.

He studied her for a moment, his new senses of truth and awareness tingling, "You weren't planning on coming back were you?"

Lana looked down briefly before meeting his eyes again, "Yeah, not until a few hours ago."

"So what changed your mind?" Clark asked, studying her again as she paused. "I'm not expecting you to say it was _me_."

_There were sounds in my head  
Little voices whispering  
That I should go and this should end  
Oh and I found myself listening_

"I _couldn't_ miss Chloe's wedding," Lana half-lied. "She's my best friend."

"Chloe's _glad_ you came," he intoned, his face stony. "_I_ could have used some warning."

"I'm sorry for that," Lana apologized genuinely, "But Chloe's wedding isn't the _only_ reason I came back."

"Then why?" Clark queried, not breaking eye contact.

"I read about the mysterious blur saving lives in Metropolis," she admitted with a smile. "I'm proud of you Clark . . . it's who you _should_ have been all along."

"Does that mean you're _happy_ you left?" He asked calmly, searching for answers surrounding the mystery of her disappearance.

"_No_," Lana told him. "I never wanted to leave."

_'Cos I don't know who I am, who I am without you  
All I know is that I should  
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you  
All I know is that I should  
'Cos she will love you more than I could  
She who dares to stand where I stood_

"I don't understand," Clark said, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"When I came out of my coma, I wasn't alone . . . Lex's men were there . . . along with a woman named Tess Mercer," Lana revealed. "They held me at gun point, forced me to make that DVD and then they kidnapped me. Like I told Lois earlier, it doesn't make anything I said on that DVD any less _true_."

"But you got away," Clark stated – she wouldn't be here if she hadn't escaped Lex's men.

"I did," Lana nodded, "Not long after they took me."

"Why didn't you come back?" Clark demanded, his confusion deepening.

"I thought about it," Lana told him, a determined look on her face, "but I _couldn't_ . . . It was the _hardest_ decision I have _ever_ had to make, but I'm _glad_ that I finally had the _guts_ to do it."

_See I thought love was black and white  
That it was wrong or it was right  
But you ain't leaving without a fight  
And I think I am just as torn inside_

"I still don't understand," Clark informed her. "You make it _sound_ like you didn't have a choice to leave but you _did_ and you _chose_ to abandon me."

"But that's why I came back!" Lana exclaimed. "I _did_ have a choice to make . . . I needed to discover some things about myself before I could face you again . . . but I've discovered those things and now I'm back to _fight_ for us!" She said earnestly, her features bright with hope. She looked down as she continued, "I would have _died_ before I admitted this . . . but I used to sit on my front porch and look across the field at this barn imagining a summer wedding here . . . Of course, I always thought I'd play a bigger part in it."

"You probably _would_ have if I'd given you Chloe's wedding gift," Clark admitted, frowning a little. Lana looked up at him suspiciously, curiously. "I had Jor-El erase all the memories Chloe had of the real me."

"Why would you _do_ that Clark?" Lana demanded, disappointment etched into her features.

"Look at what knowing my secret did to _your_ life, Lana," Clark protested, his face becoming hot and tortured as he remembered what knowing his secret had cost her. "It turned _everything_ upside down!"

"I understood the lies that you told me to protect your identity, but I could _never_ forgive you for taking that away from me," Lana told him, fervently, her eyes dancing with mysterious power, something she'd never possessed before. "And _maybe_ that's exactly what I needed . . . I could have landed a _lot_ of places in my life, Clark, but without _you_ . . . I _never_ would have ended up _here_."

_'Cos I don't know who I am, who I am without you  
All I know is that I should  
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you  
All I know is that I should  
'Cos she will love you more than I could  
She who dares to stand where I stood_

"And where's _here_ exactly?" Clark wanted to understand, but he couldn't. It showed on his face.

"In this barn, dancing with you . . . telling you how much I _love_ you and how it _killed_ me everyday to be _away_ from you . . . that I _missed_ you _every_ second," Lana revealed, heartfelt, her love for him written all over her face. "That the _only_ reason I left was so I could become _strong_ enough for the two of us to be together."

"You _could_ have picked up the phone," Clark said coldly, his emotions hidden behind a mask. "You _could_ have told me you were alright . . . You _could_ have told me _all_ of those things a_ long_ time ago . . . when it _mattered_."

_And I won't be far from where you are if ever you should call  
You meant more to me than anyone I ever loved at all  
But you taught me how to trust myself and so I say to you  
This is what I have to do_

"It doesn't matter now?" Lana asked, feeling like her chest was being constricted, and oxygen was being leeched from her lungs.

Clark looked her straight in the eyes.

"No . . . _no_ it doesn't," he murmured, knowing he was telling the truth. "You're too late."

"So that's _it_ . . . it's all over . . . it's that _easy_?" Lana asked, tears welling in her eyes, her face colored with devastation.

"_No_," Clark told her, his mask still in place, ". . . but where I am _now_ . . . for the _first_ time it feels _right_," he explained, ". . . Lana, I _know_ neither of us could say it . . . but maybe Clark Kent and Lana Lang just _weren't_ meant to end up together. I'm sorry."

He reached out to comfort her, an impulse that still hadn't quite gone away, but she shrank back from him, holding her hand up.

"Don't," she pleaded, miserably.

_'Cos I don't know who I am, who I am without you  
All I know is that I should  
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you  
All I know is that I should  
'Cos she will love you more than I could  
She who dares to stand where I stood  
Oh, she who dares to stand where I stood_

Lana nodded and smiled briefly, trying not to lose her bearings. She was strong now . . . that's why she'd gone away . . . to be strong enough for Clark, and it was all for nothing. She pushed herself away from him and hurried off the dance floor, heading up the stairs to the Loft to hide. Expecting it to be empty, she was surprised to find Pete and Lucy sitting on the couch talking. Pete took one look at her face and knew she needed to be alone.

"Lucy?" Lana heard Pete ask. "Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?"

"Yes," Lucy answered simply. Lana could hear the blush in her voice.

When she knew she was alone, she rested her palms against the wooden window sill and began to sob, her grief and loss coming out of her in waves. She was still on a mission and she tried to think of that to comfort her, but the truth was, she was _inconsolable_.

~*~

Lois' P.O.V.

"I'm going to do it," Lana said out loud, to herself and to Lois. "I'm just going to _do_ it... I _should_ do it right?"

"Yes," Lois responded, hollowly, hating herself. "You _should_ do it and _make_ him listen... you _know_ how stubborn he is."

"Wish me luck?" Lana pleaded with Lois, the only support system she had at the moment.

Lois smiled at her, sadly, and shook her head, "You don't need it."

Lana nodded several times in preparation to approach Clark, "Right," she said, blowing out an enormous breath she didn't realized she'd been holding, "I don't need it . . . Are you _sure_ I don't need it because I _feel_ like I need it."

"You _don't_," Lois reassured her, still smiling sadly. "Go _get_ him."

Lana took in another enormous breath and blew it out, took a large sip of champagne, wrung her hands once before she got up from her chair and walked as steadily as she could in Clark's direction.

So this was _it_ . . . the moment her heart was going to break. It was odd, like she was watching it from outside her body as Lana approached Clark and asked him to dance . . . but then her vision of the couple vanished and nothing but black was in her view.

Oliver kneeled down in front of her, wiping away the tears she hadn't known she was crying with the pads of his thumbs, and giving her an encouraging smile.

"Lois Lane, will you dance with me?" He asked, very gentlemanly and debonair.

Lois accepted immediately, desperately needing the comfort of a pair of strong arms wrapped around her as her world fell to pieces. She let the tears soak into Ollie's tux, not bothering to stop them.

_I don't know what I've done  
Or if I like what I've begun  
But something told me to run  
And honey you know me it's all or none_

She couldn't bear to look at the dancing duo... Miss Perfect Lana Lang and her prince Clark Kent... soul mates _fated_ to be together. She hid her face in Ollie's chest and forced herself to take deep breaths.

_There were sounds in my head  
Little voices whispering  
That I should go and this should end  
Oh and I found myself listening_

Her deep breathing didn't stop the tears from flowing and Ollie rubbed smooth circles over and over on her back that lulled her into a trance as she listened to the music playing.

_'Cos I don't know who I am, who I am without you  
All I know is that I should  
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you  
All I know is that I should  
'Cos she will love you more than I could  
She who dares to stand where I stood_

Lois couldn't hear what Lana and Clark were saying but she recognized Clark's deep voice and it hummed at her in her trance-like state. Lana's voice was higher and it made a happy little chirping noise like birds singing in the morning at her in her trance-like state as well.

_See I thought love was black and white  
That it was wrong or it was right  
But you ain't leaving without a fight  
And I think I am just as torn inside_

Ollie tightened his arms around her and she squeezed him like her favorite stuffed dog from when she was a child. His name had been Spike. She didn't know why she'd named him that, it was just on a whim. She wished she could go back to that place... back to her childhood where all she needed to do to feel better was squeeze a stuffed dog and love was just this far off concept that she need never worry about.

_'Cos I don't know who I am, who I am without you  
All I know is that I should  
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you  
All I know is that I should  
'Cos she will love you more than I could  
She who dares to stand where I stood_

"Lois?" Ollie asked, gently, his tux soaked by then with her tears.

She waited for a moment to look up into his brown eyes, inhaling the familiar scent of him, one of her very favorite scents _ever_.

"Ollie?" She smiled sadly, hoping her face showed her gratitude for his presence.

_And I won't be far from where you are if ever you should call  
You meant more to me than anyone I ever loved at all  
But you taught me how to trust myself and so I say to you  
This is what I have to do_

"I'm sorry," he told her, genuinely, their eyes locking in a familiar gaze.

She looked at him... the way she used to before when they were together and he asked permission with his eyes if it was okay for him to kiss her. She nodded ever so slightly, and slowly, his head descended, their lips on a crash course toward each other.

_'Cos I don't know who I am, who I am without you  
All I know is that I should  
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you  
All I know is that I should  
'Cos she will love you more than I could  
She who dares to stand where I stood  
Oh, she who dares to stand where I stood_

"I'm sorry," Lois heard Clark's voice. It was louder than it had been before, but she was still gazing at Ollie, biting her lip as he was about to kiss her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lois saw Clark reach out to comfort Lana but the other young woman shrank back from him, holding her hand up.

"Don't," she pleaded, miserably and loudly.

This got both hers and Ollie's attention and they abruptly stopped before their lips met, Clark staring at the two of them, a look of shock on his face. Lois looked at him despondently, trying to communicate with him with her eyes that what he was seeing wasn't what it looked like. She couldn't tell if he understood, but she _knew_ that Lana could use a shoulder to cry on, so she fled from Oliver's embrace and ran up the loft stairs just as Pete and Lucy were leaving.

"Hey sis," Lucy greeted, mild-mannerly. Lois noticed that Lucy wasn't acting like herself but couldn't think on it at that moment. "I wouldn't go in there."

"I'm not . . . not _yet_ anyway," Lois murmured, sad when she heard Lana begin to sob.

~*~

Clark's P.O.V.

Clark was sorry that Lana was heartbroken but he wasn't sorry for anything he'd said. He'd told her the truth, which was much kinder than leading her along and breaking her heart later when he simply couldn't fight his feelings for Lois any longer. He knew that eventually that day would come and he'd finally tell Lois the truth, especially with the new gifts the purple, yellow, and white kryptonite had given him. He'd tried to comfort her but she'd shrunk away from him like his touch would burn her and ran away, but he didn't notice which direction she went because he saw the woman he loved about to kiss one of his best friends and her ex-flame, the same ex-flame he'd helped her get over so many months before. Seeing her and Oliver like that shocked him, and also made his blood boil with jealousy ten times worse than any of the other guys he'd seen her with.

Suddenly the two looked away from each other and stared at Clark, Oliver guiltily and Lois pleading with him with her eyes that it didn't mean what he thought, and then_ she_ ran away too, but he was still rooted to his spot on the dance floor staring at Ollie like Lois was still there in his arms, about to kiss him. Desolation like he'd _never_ felt before consumed him, his heart crumbling to pieces as he re-ran the scene over and over again in his head. He had to _do_ something, he had to _tell_ her how he felt. If only he could _move_! But he _couldn't_ . . . all he could do was _stand_ there in the middle of the dance floor alone and looking like an idiot.

~*~

Lois' P.O.V.

Lois waited five minutes before she parted the opalescent curtains and entered the Loft. She saw Lana, her palms resting on the wooden window sill, shaking with sobs as she stared out at the Kansas landscape.

"Lana?" Lois approached the other young woman slowly, gently.

She didn't answer at first, the sobs still uncontrollably wracking her body. Then she turned to face Lois, and Lois could see her making up her mind to try and get a grip, but Lois knew from experience that that was a difficult thing to do, especially when the man you were crying over was Clark Kent. Lana wiped at her eyes and clutched her chest as though it would fall apart if she didn't hold it in place.

"Lana . . . what happened?" Lois coaxed, concerned.

"He . . . he doesn't _want_ me anymore," Lana hiccupped, her face one of despair. "He doesn't love me . . . I was gone _too_ long . . . he said it was too _late_ . . . that I don't _matter_ anymore."

"I'm _sure_ he didn't mean it," Lois comforted, softly.

"No . . . he _meant_ it . . . I _know_ he did . . . You should have _seen_ the look in his eyes . . . he _really_ doesn't want me . . . he doesn't _love_ me . . . not anymore," she cried, helplessly.

"I'm so _sorry_," Lois whispered, holding her arms out and not knowing why.

Lana looked into Lois' sincere eyes and then ran into her embrace, beginning to sob again. Lois shushed her and rubbed circles around and around on Lana's back just as Ollie had done for her when she thought her heart was breaking, and she cried with her. After several minutes, the two young women broke apart, tears still pouring down their faces.

"Thank you, Lois," Lana expressed, gratefully.

"Don't thank me," Lois insisted.

"You've been here for me _all_ night . . . you gave me good advice . . . and you did it all when you _obviously_ have feelings for Clark too," Lana said, letting Lois in on the fact that she'd known all along.

"No," Lois tried to lie, "I was just being a good _friend_."

"You're an _excellent_ friend to _both_ of us," Lana told her, wiping at her tears again and getting a handle on her voice. It still shook, but it was much clearer now. "You're in _love_ with him . . . and you were willing to sacrifice _your_ happiness for his because you thought _I_ was what he wanted."

Lois stood there her mouth slightly agape at the truth said out loud.

"I didn't _mean_ to fall for him," Lois said, agonized. "I'm _sorry_."

"Lois . . . you don't have to apologize to me . . . you didn't _do_ anything wrong," Lana assured her, even though she was in terrible pain. "You did _everything_ right . . . you stayed . . . you were _there_ for him . . . you helped him pick up the pieces after_ I_ left . . . _none_ of that is wrong . . . it's _noble_ and _kind_ and _caring_."

"I never _wanted_ to hurt anyone," Lois shared, sadly.

"You didn't . . . I hurt myself," Lana admitted. "_I_ ruined my chance with him . . . but now it's _yours_ . . . Don't ruin your chance with him too . . . He loves _you_ . . . don't take that for granted like _I_ did."

Lois nodded, biting her lip and wiping her tears from her eyes.

"I'd like to be alone now if that's okay," Lana requested, sinking down onto the couch.

"Of course," Lois nodded and shrugged. "If you need me . . ."

"I don't," Lana answered, bravely. "Now go _out_ there and _get_ your man . . . Be_ happy_."

Lois gave another short nod, turned on her heel and left the Loft, disappearing behind the opalescent curtains.

She saw the top of Clark's dark head standing a few feet in front of the initial stairs that led up to the many landings to the Loft and, shaking, made her way down them. She positioned herself a few feet away from him and stood there, trying to get up the nerve to talk to him.

~*~

Clark's P.O.V.

After a minute or so, Clark finally got his legs working and shuffled off the dance floor. Trying to occupy his mind with something other than Oliver and Lois' near kiss he motioned to the tall, blond billionaire, who met him halfway.

"Get The Justice League together while I find Kara and the Martian Manhunter, and meet us upstairs where the hay is," Clark instructed.

When Ollie, Dinah, Bart, A.C., and Victor headed up the stairs to their instructed location, Clark, Kara and John Jones were already waiting for them.

"John, please explain what you told me at the house to everyone . . . If this is as big a threat as the two of us believe we need _all_ players on deck," Clark commanded, a new sense of leadership filling him.

John bowed to him like the royalty he was and obeyed his command, telling everyone what they suspected about Doomsday and the prophecy. He left out the parts about the kryptonite he'd exposed Kal-El to, leaving Clark to explain that to Kara and any of the others he trusted enough to share the private ceremony with.

"We have work to do," Clark surmised, looking to Oliver, who nodded.

"Count us in," Oliver obligated his team to the cause.

"I trust you'll inform Watchtower . . . _after_ the honeymoon, of course?" Clark queried, raising an eyebrow.

"I will," Oliver promised.

"Good," Clark stated, feeling more relieved now that he knew he wasn't alone in this fight. "Kara?"

"Do you _even_ have to ask?" She said, a little annoyance and insult in her voice. "I may not be the _heir_ to the House of El but that doesn't mean I'm not still _part_ of it. This is as much _my_ fight as it is _yours_."

Clark nodded once, "Well, I guess everything's settled then . . . we'll talk about it more later . . . everyone can go about their business now . . . and have _fun_! Just as we need to work hard to neutralize this imminent threat, we need to exercise our ability to let loose and not get bogged down by the threat of the unknown. Everyone needs to take this threat seriously, but not _so_ seriously that it disturbs your ability to contribute your gifts to our cause 100%. I believe that all of us, together, will overcome this."

"Well done, Kal-El," John commented, seeing the change in the man before him.

"Nice pep talk, bro," A.C. smiled, heading off to get a glass of water.

"Not bad," Bart smirked, looking at Lucy and Pete dancing and challenging himself to steal away the last available Lane.

"Not bad at all," Victor conceded, making a beeline for Vanessa. He owed her a special dance.

"You'd better watch it, Superman, or you'll be giving our fearless leader a run for his money," Dinah winked at him as she passed, smiling and heading to grab a fresh glass of champagne.

"She's right, you know," Oliver advised him. "A few more speeches like that one and I'll officially be dethroned."

"It's not like that Oliver, I promise," Clark stated. He had no intention of stealing The Justice League away from Oliver's leadership but he _did_ plan on making himself a more active member of the organization, "But I'm going to make a more _permanent_ commitment to the League as of now."

Oliver looked surprised, "We'll be glad to have you."

Clark nodded and smiled, "Thanks."

Then he walked down the stairs and back to the ground floor, choosing to hover at the outskirts of the dance floor near the stairs that led up to the Loft. He'd been standing there for about five minutes when he felt Lois' presence beside him even though she was a good five feet away. The air buzzed with electricity between them, their chemistry undeniable. It scared him and made him feel good at the same time. He turned toward her a little and smiled shyly as he caught her eye. She tilted her body toward his and smiled back just as shyly. A slow, sexy jazz number started to play as the lights dimmed, making the disco ball sparkle. They stared at one another for a moment before Lois shrugged, rolled her eyes and started to walk past him.

"I guess I can give these well-heeled puppies a rest," she said, excusing herself.

As she walked behind him something primal inside him screamed, _Don't let her get away!_ He decided to_ finally_ listen, so he turned and grabbed her hand before she could go anywhere and pulled her back toward him, smiling without a trace of shyness in sight as he shrugged his shoulders, feeling the same zing rush through his body as it had every other time he'd touched her that day. Lois smiled uncertainly and let him pull her close as she took a deep breath.

~*~

Lois' P.O.V.

"I guess I can give these well-heeled puppies a rest," Lois murmured as she made her way behind Clark, something primal inside her crying out, _Touch me or I'm going to SCREAM!_

The next thing she knew he had hold of her hand and the same electric zing that coursed through their bodies every time they touched zipped right through her and she smiled uncertainly as she took a deep breath, letting him pull her close with a perfectly normal, as opposed to shy, smile on his face, shrugging adorably.

They danced with effortlessness, though admittedly still a little shy now that they were touching. It took them a few seconds to get comfortable in each other's arms and Lois smiled briefly as she stepped a little closer to Clark and he leaned his head closer into hers.

~*~

Jimmy's P.O.V.

"Hey!" Jimmy called after a guy he knew he worked with at _The Planet_.

The man and his date stopped. Jimmy pulled a twenty from his wallet and handed it to the man, Tom, he thought his name was.

"You see that couple dancing over there?" Jimmy pointed out Lois and Clark. Tom and his date nodded. "When you walk by them, bump into them so that she gets pressed flat against him, and keep on walking like nothing happened."

"Okay," Tom said, tucking the twenty into his pocket and leading his date toward Lois and Clark.

~*~

Clark's P.O.V.

Clark was having an exhilarating time holding Lois as they danced and things were starting to feel more comfortable between them, more effortless like the way they were together at work. She smiled at him briefly as she dared to step a little closer to him and leaned her head closer to his chest. He leaned his head in closer to her hair, smelling the same mix of sweet pea and "Rockin' Rio" as he had earlier, before the ceremony when she'd given him his cuff link lesson.

Suddenly, a passing couple slammed into Lois, pressing her firmly and fully against his body and his pulse started to race. Both of them looked at the passing couple, who just continued on as if they hadn't completely body-checked Lois, in surprise before looking back at each other. Clark blinked rapidly for a moment and then let his eyes rove over Lois' body before returning them to her hazel orbs. She looked at him a little strangely as their eyes met, almost as if she were surprised that he was still there gazing at her instead of giving that guy, Tom, he thought his name was from work, a piece of his mind. The look in them was questioning, almost as though she were asking for enlightened permission.

The same primal voice that had reared up inside him to not let her go roared _Touch me or I'm going to SCREAM!_ And she _did_, timidly at first, putting her hand to his chest and rubbing it slightly for a second. He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the way her fingers felt against his cloth-covered chest. She inched closer that same look in her eyes, asking for permission to inch closer and closer. He gazed into them and then down at her lips as they both slowly closed the gap between their bodies, lips only millimeters apart.

Finally, their lips touched in a chaste brush, but that electric zing that kept throbbing through their bodies and making their pulses race, he could hear her heart beating marvelously fast, made them jump apart in shock. Lois' eyes, however, darkened with desire and he was sure his had as well because they were moving toward each other quickly this time, and their lips crashed together in a passionate kiss. He ran his tongue along her loose lower lip, begging entrance to her mouth, which she granted eagerly. Soon their tongues were massaging each other in a sexy duel for dominance and they pressed their bodies closer together, Lois putting one hand on his face in a reverent caress as she tangled the other hand in the hair at the back of his neck. He placed his hands at the small of her back and made sure they were as close as they could possibly get to one another. It was the most mind-blowing kiss either of them had ever experienced.

After what seemed like forever they pulled away for air, and gasped in unison, "Wow!"

~*~

Lois' P.O.V.

Lois' fingers were touching her swollen lips in disbelief. She'd imagined kissing Clark a thousand different times in a thousand different ways, but none of her imagination's wildest fantasies dared match the real thing. Her head was spinning and her knees were weak, so weak she stumbled a little and he caught her, once again sending that zing of electricity coursing through her body, and righting her on her feet. She stared at him in wonder, his blue eyes melting her heart, as she took in a much needed breath and exhaled slowly as he stared at her in wonder right back. She bit her lower lip where she could still feel the magnetic charge of his tongue and reached up to his cheek again, caressing it with her finger tips just as reverently as she had before. It felt right . . . no, it felt _perfect_. Then she laughed musically as a sense of something oddly familiar enveloped her entire body.

She smiled and giggled, "I've kissed you _before_ . . . _You_ were the man pretending to be Ollie in that alley so I wouldn't know he was really Green Arrow!"

Clark blushed a deep scarlet and nodded, "I didn't think I'd left _that_ much of an impression on you."

"You did," Lois admitted, breathlessly, blushing as well.

"And that's a _good_ thing, right?" Clark asked, a tiny bit worried her answer would be no.

"You bet it is," she breathed.

"Good," Clark exhaled, unaware that he'd been holding his breath.

Lois studied him closely for a minute.

"It's _you_," she said, smiling cryptically.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he gazed at her.

"It's _been_ _you_ all along," she continued, in awe. "I was _right_!"

"What are you saying Lois?" Clark queried, unable to read her face.

"I _knew_ it . . . I knew it in my _gut_ . . . in my _bones_ . . ." she trailed off, leaving Clark frustrated.

"Lois, you're not making any sense," Clark told her, still holding her in place. "What did you know?"

"It's like what you said in your toast . . . like what Chloe told me when I asked her how she knew . . ." Lois explained, still in awe. "Jimmy was _right_."

"What do you _mean_?" Clark asked again, getting a little worried. She seemed happy, but her sense of awe was overpowering it.

"'Lois and Clark would be great together,'" she breathed. "That's what he _said_ . . . and he's _right_! _I_ was right . . . It's _you_!"

"You're going to have to give me a _little_ more to go on, Lois," Clark inhaled, smelling her sweet scent again and dragging it in like it was some sort of drug.

"All this time I _doubted_," Lois continued, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Doubted _what_?" Clark demanded, gently, desperately.

"That I _taught_ myself right . . ." she said, using his words.

"What did you teach yourself right?" Clark was high on her, the touch of her skin, the smell of her, the sight of her. He was so intoxicated that her words, which should have been a dead giveaway by then, just weren't making any sense to him.

"You're _it_," she proclaimed, her voice not much more than a whisper.

"What am I?" Clark begged, shamelessly.

"You're the _one_," Lois breathed, running out of air.

"The one?" Clark asked, not daring to hope.

"You're my _Jonathan_ . . . my _Jimmy_ . . . just like in my toast," she finished, blushing her own shade of scarlet.

Clark flashed her one of his dazzling Clark Kent smiles when she finally said it, and laughed gloriously, so happy at her words he floated and took her with him, though she didn't notice in her state of awe and ecstasy.

"_I'm_ your Jonathan . . . _your_ Jimmy?" He demanded, gently again, not sure if he'd heard her right.

"Yes . . . yes . . . _yes_," she smiled brilliantly, glowing at the revelation.

~*~

Clark's P.O.V.

He turned serious and pulled her toward him for another passionate kiss. She opened her mouth immediately, allowing him access without him having to ask permission. Their lips remained pliable the whole time, the way every kiss _should_ be, tongues darting in and out of one another's mouths slowly, enjoying the electric tingle each touch reverberated throughout their bodies. It was a _sweet_ kiss, a _loving_ kiss, a _perfect_ kiss that lasted for minutes as they learned how to breathe while their lips never parted, their hands taking turns exploring different parts of their bodies and making the air around them thick with passion, electricity, chemistry, and love. The whole world fell away and they were alone, fabulously, gloriously alone to share in the loveliest moment either had ever experienced.

They finally broke apart, and Clark's eyes danced with joy and pleasure.

"It's funny," he breathed so that only she could hear.

She smiled at him and gushed, "_What's_ funny?"

"It's _you_," Clark said, smiling his signature Kent smile. "It's _always_ been you."

"I still don't understand what's funny," Lois told him, her smile aglow.

"I was always so _blind_ . . . so _terribly_ blind," he confessed, a little embarrassed. "You're _it_."

Lois didn't say anything, she just kept on smiling until her face hurt.

"All I ever _wanted_ was a partner to share my life with . . . and I was _always_ looking . . . looking in _all_ the _wrong_ places . . . I was _so_ blind," he whispered, heavily.

"What does that _mean_, Smallville?" It was Lois' turn to be confused.

"_You're_ my true one . . . my _soul mate_ . . . the _partner_ I've _always_ been searching for," Clark elaborated, his voice full of love and sweetness.

If it was possible Lois smiled even wider, "You're _my_ soul mate . . . _my_ true one . . . the _partner_ I've _always_ been looking for."

"I'm _so_ in love with you, Lois Joanne Lane," Clark declared, on cloud nine, and he could have floated them there if he'd really wanted to.

"I'm _so_ in love with _you_, Clark Joseph Kent," Lois declared, also on cloud nine, still unaware that they were floating.

"Then I have something to ask you," Clark told her, smiling so wide his face hurt as well.

"Ask away," Lois encouraged.

"Will you do me the _honor_ of being my girl?" Clark asked, sweetly.

"_Always_ and _forever_," Lois promised, just as sweetly.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I own neither Smallville nor Superman. They belong to people and companies far greater than I. The characters are just really fun to play with when borrowed. I stole the character Vanessa Abrams from Gossip Girl who belongs to The CW, but she is a couple years older in this fic because it is just more appropriate.

SPOILER ALERT: This story is loosely based on "Bride." If you haven't seen this episode yet, I wouldn't read this until you have, unless you don't care.

Rating: This chapter is rated T, though, as promised, eventually it will become M

**Author's Note: Thanks for all the wonderful feedback and encouragement! Especially to Superlc529 – you ROCK!!! Thanks to for providing me with the song lyrics and to for helping me with the color meanings.

The Moment He Knew

Chapter 10 – The Perfect Night

Oliver's P.O.V.

Oliver had watched silently as Lois and Clark finally admitted their love for one another _to_ each other. He watched as the two kissed for the first time, just a chaste brush, before jumping back from one another. He wondered what it felt like to have so much chemistry with someone, that just a brush of the lips made you go all weak in the knees and set your pulse racing like crazy, so that all you could do in response was stare at that other special person in awe. He watched as they moved in to explore this more thoroughly, noticing that the kissing couple was floating. Floating?! He was completely and utterly mind-blown. Clark hadn't told him that he could fly! That must have been some kiss if it was making Clark do things he normally wasn't capable of. Half of Oliver wanted to go on letting the two of them float in sheer bliss, but the other half, the half that was crying out in the most terrible pain at the sight of them than he could have ever imagined, erred on the side of logic. Only a handful of people in the room knew about Clark's abilities and he was guessing that Lois wasn't one of them . . . now was not the time for a mass-introduction to the real Clark Kent, as unhappy as his otherworldly friend might be about being brought, figuratively and _literally_, back down to Earth. Oliver walked at a brisk pace and lingered near the two, watching to make sure no one noticed the six inches of space between Clark's dress shoes and Lois' high heels and the floor. He was close enough to hear every word the happy couple exchanged once their lips finally parted, grimacing despite himself when he heard Lois promise herself to Clark '_always_ and _forever_.' He hadn't expected that hearing those words come out of her mouth would be so damned painful. Politely, he cleared his throat, catching the lovebirds' attention and noticing even more painfully that as they noticed his presence it was like they were coming out of a world that belonged solely to the two of them.

"I hate to bring you two back down to _Earth_," Oliver said, quietly, literally, "but I think only the bride and groom have groping privileges at the wedding itself. It'd be more . . . _tasteful _if the two of you waited just a smidgeon longer until _after_ the wedding's through."

Clark absorbed Oliver's words meaningfully, noticing for the first time that he and Lois were floating a good half a foot off the ground. He smiled awkwardly and gratefully at the blond billionaire for letting him know that he was uncharacteristically displaying his gifts to the uninformed public. Slowly but surely the bottoms of the couples shoes landed noiselessly on the wood of the floor, Lois so happy she was in a haze of bliss that prevented her from noticing the light touch to the ground. It took her a little longer to come out of the haze, Oliver noticed, than it had Clark, mostly because she didn't understand his double-edged words.

"Man, Ollie," she huffed, her cheeks pink from passion as she glared at him, "You really know how to kill a moment!"

"Sorry," Ollie apologized genuinely, unwelcome memories of when he'd been the one to make her cheeks flush pink with passion nudging their way to the forefront of his mind, "It's just that you were kind of feeling each other up and there's a guy filming this entire shindig . . . If I remember correctly, you're not one who likes to be caught on videotape doing that sort of thing."

"Oh!" Lois blushed three shades pinker than she already was, and this time she was genuinely thankful to her ex, "Thanks . . . I uh . . . I totally forgot all about that," she smiled awkwardly and hid her face in Clark's chest in embarrassment.

"Just an idea," Oliver suggested, "but why don't you two go around and reintroduce yourselves?"

"Reintroduce ourselves?" Clark questioned, his cheeks pink also, partly from passion and partly from Oliver's revelation about Lois not liking to be videotaped during sexual situations, not understanding what Oliver meant.

It was Oliver's turn for his cheeks to flush, "I wasn't trying to pry or anything, I swear," he admitted, giving Clark a look that told him he was simply watching out for him, "but I kind of heard everything you said to each other. When I say '_reintroduce_' I mean going around to all the people you love and reintroduce yourselves as a couple . . . that's what you are now, right?"

"Um . . . yeah," Clark said, a bit uncomfortably, not because he and Lois were now a couple, but that his best friend and her most important ex-love had overheard their private words.

Ollie just nodded several times; trying to make the situation the least awkward it could become and desperately attempted to stop his heart from its unexpected aching.

"That's actually a good idea," Lois stated, pleased, "It'll give everyone some time to get used to the idea of me and Smallville . . . you know, together."

The heartache Oliver felt went away for a brief moment as he barked out a laugh and smiled at the two of them knowingly, "I hate to break it to you, Lo, but it's not going to be much of a surprise."

Lois gave him a funny look, obviously thinking that she had been a pro at covering up her feelings for Clark and not realizing just how transparent she'd really been, "That's crazy, Ollie . . . The only person who _wouldn't_ be surprised is Jimmy and that's only because he's been trying to set us up for yearsnow."

Oliver laughed again, the pain he was feeling subsiding somewhat as he smiled at her, "That's true . . . Jimmy definitely won't be surprised, but the fact is you're not the actress you think you are, Lois. You've been so transparent about your feelings for Clark, I've known just as long as Jimmy, for even longer actually. Remember that comment I made the first time I encountered the two of you in the same room together all those years ago . . . it was there then, even though you only had eyes for other people . . . it was still there, lurking in the shadows, waiting to rear its ugly head."

"How poetic," Lois glowered at him, _Was I really that awful at concealing my feelings? _"Keep your day job, Ollie . . . and you're night one, too. You're no good at playing matchmaker."

Oliver laughed again, clutching at his stomach when he found he couldn't stop. He was the reason they were together now, though he figured it would have happened eventually without all his and Jimmy's interference, not to mention all the people they'd used as pawns in their little matchmaking chess game, most likely later rather than sooner.

"Actually Oliver," Clark gave the laughing billionaire a pointed look, "I'd kind of like to keep this under the rug for a little while if you don't mind keeping quiet."

"Anything you want," Oliver promised, "I'm just happy the two of you finally figured it out . . . I _told _you I'd be here when you did," and Ollie was happy for them, he realized it as he said the words, the ache in his chest slowly but surely dissipating to a dull throbbing he couldn't explain. He smiled, nodded, and squeezed each of them on the shoulder to show his support, "but you have to remember that I might not have been the only one who caught your little grope fest."

Lois and Clark nodded. Lois looked at Clark like she was hurt by his wanting to keep their relationship a secret for the time being. Ollie left the 'Man of Steel' to deal with his new girlfriend and what possibly would end up being their first fight as he made his way toward the bride and groom. Sure he'd promised Clark that he'd keep quiet but he couldn't very well ignore the other half of the team that had so expertly maneuvered the stubborn lovebirds into the same nest.

"Hey Olsen!" Oliver called, getting the attention of not one but two people, Chloe trying to get used to answering to the last name that was now hers. She and Jimmy met Oliver halfway.

"Just so you know, I'll be going by Sullivan-Olsen," Chloe informed him brightly, her smile matching her tone as she tried the two names together and liked what she heard.

"Noted," Oliver said genially, but turned his attention to the male half of the duo, "Project Clois is officially a success," he grinned wickedly at the groom, "Just thought you'd want to know."

"No way!" Jimmy exclaimed, his smile, which already matched Chloe's, widened as he took in the news of their victory.

"Project Clois?" Chloe questioned, giving the two men a suspicious look.

"Your husband and I have been scheming all day trying to get Lois and Clark to finally admit their feelings for one another and get together," Oliver explained.

"And it worked?!" Chloe screeched excitedly, if it was even possible for her to get more excited.

"It was a raging success," Oliver admitted smiling, though not as brightly as he would have liked.

"They're together?!" Chloe and Jimmy squealed in unison.

"I heard him ask her to be his girlfriend with my own two ears," Ollie told them, "But Clark has requested that I keep their relationship quiet for a little while, so the two of you had better stop squealing or the cat'll be out of the bag and I'll be the one who has to deal with Lois' wrath."

"I can't believe it worked!" Jimmy crowed, happy for his cousin-in-law and best man. "You know, _you_ were the one that really made it happen and I'm not talking about all the strategic dance partners you arranged for them all evening. If you hadn't nearly kissed Lois, Clark never would have gotten jealous enough to finally do something about his feelings," the groom observed, praising him.

Chloe looked a little more closely at her friend and noticed that he wasn't quite as psyched as Jimmy was at Lois and Clark's union; in fact, Oliver looked a little sad and lost, like he didn't really know what to do with himself, something she'd never seen in him before.

"But you didn't do that part on purpose, did you?" She voiced her observation out loud, putting her hand comfortingly on Ollie's back. "You really wanted to kiss her, didn't you?"

"Am I that translucent?" Oliver queried, letting his face fall a little more now that he knew someone was onto him.

"No," Chloe rushed in, trying not to make him feel bad as Jimmy blatantly stared at him in amazement, "I just know you . . . are you okay?"

"I'll be fine," Oliver assured her, "I wanted this . . . it _was_ my idea . . . but when I saw her face when she was watching Lana and Clark together all these old feelings just sort of hit me and I couldn't help myself . . . so I did the one thing that I could never do for her before . . . I was there . . . I didn't leave her behind . . . I've always regretted leaving her, but she's not the one for me . . . It'll just take a little while for me to get used to seeing the two of them together as a couple but I _really_ am happy for them."

"I believe you," Chloe comforted him, "It's always hard to see someone you love with someone else," she looked to Jimmy and then stared straight at Kara so he would understand she was talking about him and not her old crush on Clark, ". . . even if you don't really love them anymore . . . you'll find the right person, Ollie, I know you will," she stated, incredibly sure of herself.

"I'm glad you think so," Oliver told her, "because after watching you and Jimmy and then seeing Lois and Clark together . . . I'll be lucky to find someone I have half as much chemistry with as all of you do."

"What about Dinah?" Chloe suggested, raising her eyebrows.

"Dinah is," he paused, trying to find the right word for her, ". . . a top notch woman. Any man would be lucky to have her, but our witty banter is just what it appears to be and nothing more . . . it's not like Lois and Clark where they go back and forth with each other under the guise of fighting when it's really code for flirting . . . there's no spark there . . . but she's great at her job," Oliver continued, giving Chloe a special look that indicated he wasn't referring to her radio show.

Chloe wasn't the first person to propose a possible hook up with the only female member of The Justice League. He'd had it hinted at him by Bart, Victor, and A.C., but everything he'd just told 'Watchtower' was true . . . their banter wasn't code for anything, but two hard headed people butting their two very thick skulls together.

"Just be patient, man," Jimmy said soothingly, "The right woman will come along and when she does you'll know it because she'll totally knock you on your ass."

"Is that what I did, Mr. Olsen?" Chloe dug at her new husband, a playful look on her face. "Did I knock you on your ass?"

"Babe, I'm still on the floor," Jimmy admitted with a laugh, his tone of voice a testament to his truth.

~*~

Clark's P.O.V.

"Actually Oliver," Clark gave the laughing billionaire a pointed look, "I'd kind of like to keep this under the rug for a little while if you don't mind keeping quiet."

"Anything you want," Oliver promised, "I'm just happy the two of you finally figured it out . . . I _told_ you I'd be here when you did," and Ollie was happy for them, he realized it as he said the words, the ache in his chest slowly but surely dissipating to a dull throbbing he couldn't explain. He smiled, nodded, and squeezed each of them on the shoulder to show his support, "but you have to remember that I might not have been the only one that caught your little grope fest."

Lois and Clark nodded. Lois looked at Clark like she was hurt by his wanting to keep their relationship a secret for the time being. Ollie left the 'Man of Steel' to deal with his new girlfriend and what possibly would end up being their first fight.

"I don't understand, Smallville," Lois voiced her distaste at the idea of keeping their relationship a secret for even a millisecond. She was all for shouting it from the rooftops . . . she, Lois Lane, had gotten the happy ending and she wanted to share it with the world, "Why would you want to keep us a secret?"

"Let's go somewhere more private," Clark suggested, wary of her insecure tone. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops as well, but there was a certain thing he'd wanted to do before he confessed his feelings for her; unfortunately, things had gotten screwed up . . . she'd nearly kissed Oliver and it had made him go crazy and tell her he was in love with her before she knew the truth about him, which was backward to how he'd wanted it. He started to head toward the Loft, but Lois shook her head. He furrowed his eyebrows at her in confusion.

She shook her head from side to side like a pendulum, debating whether or not she wanted to taint the first few minutes of their happiness together with _her_ name, but in the end she had to.

"Lana," she told him, motioning to the Loft with a quick jerk of her head and he nodded as he comprehended her meaning. He focused his hearing for a moment and heard gut-wrenching sobs coming from his private place, and felt momentarily guilty for causing her so much pain even though she'd caused him ten times more. He recovered quickly though, refocusing all of his attention on Lois, how it should always have been.

"How about a nice evening walk?" He proposed, sticking his arm out for her to slip hers through, which she happily did.

When they got outside they headed toward the Kent house, sitting on the wicker bench on the porch. Clark figured it was as good a place as any to come clean about his desire to keep their relationship secret for a little while.

"So tell me, Smallville," Lois started, trying not to sound hurt, "Why do you want to keep us a secret?"

Clark paused for a long while, trying to choose the right words and fit them together in a way that wouldn't hurt her feelings or make her angry with him . . . needless to say, it was a slippery slope.

"You don't understand," he began, his voice steady and unapologetic, "It's not that I want to keep us a secret, Lois. I'd gladly fly to the moon and burn "Clark Kent loves Lois Lane" into the surface in bold letters for the whole world to see, but I wasn't expecting for things to happen the way they did."

"What do you mean?" Lois searched his eyes, trying to understand.

"I've been confused about you and me for a long time," Clark confessed, tugging at his hands in his lap as he said words he was hoping he'd never have to say. Lois reached out and grabbed one of his hands, interlacing their fingers and effectively calming him down and turning him on at the same time, "I didn't realize it until today, but I've been in love with you for a while . . . maybe as long as Oliver says . . . maybe even longer than that," he told her, remembering his senior year of high school when she'd first breezed into town and Lana, having been with Jason Teague at the time, had made a similar comment as Oliver had, assuming they were a couple, "But even though I could never put a label on what I felt toward you until today, I had . . . _thoughts_."

"Thoughts?" Lois repeated, vaguely wondering if they were the kinds of thoughts she'd been having since she'd first realized she felt more toward him than just friendship . . . she'd had all kinds of thoughts and many of them had been X-rated.

"Yes . . . thoughts," he confirmed, though not whether or not any of them had been dirty ones.

"What kinds of thoughts?" She couldn't bear not to ask now that the topic had been thrown on the table.

"Lots of different kinds," he admitted, and she could see his blush in the rusty orange-pink of the dusk that was quickly fading in the sky, welcoming night, "Some of which are not important . . . I mean they are important . . . just not right now," he said embarrassed, answering her unspoken innuendo about any of his thoughts being dirty.

"Okay," Lois said, her pulse racing and her center getting wet just at the acknowledgment that he'd fantasized about her the way she'd fantasized about him.

"Mostly, these thoughts were about how I was going to tell you . . . how I was going to tell you the truth about," he was going to say 'me,' but now wasn't the time for that conversation, ". . . whether or not I felt the line between friendship and romance had been blurred between you and me . . . and let me tell you, all the times I imagined having this conversation with you it went a hell of a lot differently."

"Different how?" She was begging for answers now because she could tell he wanted to come clean about something, she just wasn't sure what . . . maybe it was the thing he and his mother and father, when he was still alive, used to get quiet about whenever she entered the room to find them conversing in quiet tones when she'd lived with them all those years ago. Maybe it would finally explain why the first time they'd met, he'd been stark naked in the middle of a cornfield with a classic case of amnesia.

"Well," he started, ". . . usually it involved casual clothing and a home-cooked meal with some wine to break the ice . . . which, despite the fancy clothing, is how it's gone down . . . but it was usually just you and me in the Loft, my 'Fortress of Solitude,' as my dad used to call it . . . There's something I've been keeping from you . . . something that could change your mind about wanting to be with me."

"Clark," she took his face in her hands and forced him to look her in the eyes, "Smallville . . . there isn't a thing on this Earth that could change my mind about wanting to be with you . . . nothing, _nothing_ could ever keep me from loving you . . . not even if you weren't even _from_ Earth," she said, not because she had any clue about his secret, just because she wanted to demonstrate exactly how much she cared for him.

Clark laughed as he looked into her eyes, smiling and blushing at the truth of her statement, realizing she'd just told herself his secret and being none the wiser.

"Nothing could change how I feel about you either," he proclaimed, covering her hands with his, "But that doesn't change the fact that you don't know everything about me and the truth . . . no matter what you say now could change your mind. I wanted you to know it before I told you I love you so that you could make an informed decision."

"An informed decision? You make it sound like you're dying of cancer or something," Lois' eyes widened, wondering if maybe he really _was_ sick after all the times she'd seen him look weak and unhealthy, though now that she thought about it he usually always looked sick when he was around the meteor rocks. Maybe he _was_ meteor infected, only they didn't drive him crazy or gave him super powers, they were literally killing him.

"I'm not dying," Clark assured her, "But what I have to say is life-altering . . . it would affect you . . . it will affect you if you decide to be with me once you know everything . . . I wasn't counting on today . . . I had no idea when I woke up this morning that my confusion would clear and I'd realize that I'm in love with you . . . I also had no idea that seeing you dance with so many different men would make my blood boil with jealousy . . . or that seeing you in Oliver's arms about to kiss him would drive me so crazy that I just couldn't keep my feelings to myself . . . I was supposed to tell you all my secrets first before I told you I love you and then ask you if you wanted to be with me, not the other way around."

"It doesn't matter to me what order things come in, Clark," Lois insisted, their hands still holding his head in place so she could look him in his beautiful blue eyes, ". . . all that matters is that you tell me . . . that you trust me with your secrets . . . you could tell me now . . . or if you need time to get yourself together before you unveil whatever it is you're hiding from me I'm fine with it . . . as long as eventually you trust me enough to tell me the truth."

"I will tell you eventually," Clark promised her, ". . . I'm not afraid or ashamed of you knowing the truth even if you never talk to me again because of it . . . I'd even tell you now but I think that might be rude of me to do in the middle of my best friend and your cousin's wedding, which is why I'd like to keep us a secret for now."

"Because of Chloe and Jimmy's wedding? Tonight is a tribute to romantic bliss, which I was definitely experiencing until Oliver came and spoiled it. Why would that stop you from telling me the truth and, more importantly, why would it make you want to hide our relationship if you love me as much as I know you do?"

"Self-preservation," Clark hated to admit it, but he was being selfish. "If I told you the truth now after I already bore my heart and soul to you and everyone found out that you and I are a couple . . . let's just say if the truth changed your mind and you didn't want to be with me because of it and things between us ended . . . I couldn't handle everyone knowing about us and then there not being an _us_ to know about if my secret changes your mind. If no one knows we're together, I can suffer in silence if you decide to break things off once you know the truth," he broke eye contact, ripping his head out of her grasp so that he could look anywhere but at her.

"Wow," Lois breathed, suddenly knocked on her ass at the realization of just how much he cared, "You really _do_ love me."

"Yes," Clark nodded, "I wasn't lying when I told you you're my soul mate . . . If everyone knew and I lost you . . . well, I just couldn't bear it . . . so I was hoping that we could have this night . . . this one perfect night together where it's just you and me and all that's between us is how much we love each other."

"I understand now," Lois nodded back, sad that he was so afraid he was going to lose her when she found out the truth, "How about a dance out here where no one can see us . . . the music is loud enough . . . let's have our perfect night . . . then we'll just go back to the barn and act like normal, just Lois and Smallville . . . What do you say?"

"We don't need music," Clark gazed at her, all the love he felt shining in his eyes as he stood and held his hand out to her. She took it without hesitation and he pulled her close to him, angling his head downward so they were dancing cheek to cheek, "I love you Lois Joanne Lane . . . no matter what happens always remember that."

Her smile was bittersweet as she clung to him and they danced, holding each other close for three songs straight and enjoyed the love they felt toward one another. At the end of the third song Clark pulled his head away from hers and kissed her, knowing that this might be the last time he ever got to. It was the sweetest kiss he'd ever known, making him even more certain that their love was that pure, sweet, soul mate kind of love that his mother and father had had.

Lois pulled away after several minutes of his sweet kisses, still holding his hand as she angled herself toward the barn, "Back to reality?"

Clark just nodded, he couldn't speak . . . with everything that was on the line he simply couldn't find his voice. He allowed her to lead him back to the barn without resistance even though his body was crying out for more of her . . . he couldn't get enough, but this had to be enough . . . for now anyway.

~*~

Kara's P.O.V.

In all her experiences on the planet Earth, Kara had never been to something quite so happy or sappy. Everywhere people were smiling and laughing and talking like they were best friends who hadn't seen each other in years and had so much to catch up on they could barely get the words out of their mouths fast enough. The last time she'd been to such a joyful celebration it had been just her, her Aunt Lara and her Uncle Jor-El and the occasion had been the birth of Kal-El – the cute, chubby baby boy who laughed adorably when one tickled his feet. She gazed at the man, at what that cute, chubby baby boy had become, and she sort of lost herself in the oddness of it all. He was older than she was though it should have been the opposite, even if it was only by a couple of years. It still shocked her when she remembered she'd spent eighteen years in limbo in her space ship in a dam.

Kara was eternally grateful to Kal-El for releasing her from The Phantom Zone and that she could enjoy such a wonderful party full of happy guests celebrating the union of two people she genuinely cared for. Weddings had been just like this on Krypton only brides didn't wear white wedding dresses, preferring to wear their house's chosen color or colors, and, believe it or not, the array of colors on her home planet was astronomically larger than that of Earth, and the higher up in class a family was, the more colors were assigned to that particular House. The House of El had had many many colors, but the only ones truly discernible here on Earth were red, blue, and yellow. There were others that came somewhat close to some of the ones her residence on Krypton in Kandor had been decorated with, but none of them ever came quite so close as what humans referred to as the primary colors. Just thinking about all the lost color made her sad but there was always a handsome young man showing up in front of her, talking, flirting, and eventually asking her to dance.

Dancing on Earth was exactly the same as on Krypton, mostly anyway, so she didn't have any trouble when she was invited to the dance floor, but she soon got bored with all the drooling that inevitably caused each of the handsome young men to overstep their bounds and do something completely out of line. It had taken all her will power not to launch each and every one of them to the moon with one giant thrust of her palms. She knew she was considered attractive on Earth, beautiful even, but was that really an excuse for a guy to slobber on her neck, grab her ass, or trace the slit of her dress up her long, lean thigh to places hands of suitable gentlemen were not supposed to go? The only decent guys she'd danced with were the groom himself, Oliver Queen, Clark's best friend from high school, and the guy that had saved her from falling stage equipment a year earlier, Pete Ross, and Victor Stone. She had avoided the human known as Bart Allen altogether after hearing stories about him from Chloe. Clark was too busy having some sort of internal crisis she suspected had something to do with Lois Lane to offer her a dance before, and then Lana had shown up and turned his crisis into an all out mental meltdown; needless to say, he still had yet to offer her a dance, which she was slightly hurt by. They were family after all, and family danced together at weddings, one thing she knew for sure was the same on Krypton as it was on Earth.

She smiled as she recalled her dance with Jimmy. They had caught each other's eye from across the room and he'd shrugged at her in that adorable way of his, silently asking if she wanted to dance with him. Clark had just been asked to the dance floor to join Chloe since he'd been her escort and, as on Krypton, the bride always danced with her escort.

"Hey Kara!" He greeted, flashing her a brilliant grin that only Jimmy Olsen could pull off, taking her in his arms without any awkwardness between them and dancing with practiced ease, "Chloe and I are really glad you made it. It was sweet of Clark to go all the way to Minnesota to deliver your invitation and make sure you came."

"Clark's sweet that way," Kara shrugged, cocking her head at him, "I wouldn't have missed this even though, technically, you were my first crush."

"Really?" Jimmy asked, surprised. She didn't know why he was shocked, he was a very attractive man even if it was in a boyish sort of way, "I was your first?"

"Yep," she admitted shamelessly, "but you and I could never have been the couple you and Chloe are."

It was his turn to shrug at her again, nodding, "She's the love of my life."

"That's obvious . . . you wouldn't have found your way back to each other if she wasn't," Kara agreed, comparing the way the newly united husband and wife lit up around each other to all the other couples she'd known who'd experienced true love. If only her father had felt the same way about her mother as he had about her aunt, the way Jimmy felt about Chloe.

"You're right," Jimmy admitted, his face showing a little bit of regret at sharing this with her of all people.

"You don't have to feel bad around me, Jimmy," she told him confidently, "We may have had some spark but it died out naturally . . . it never compared to the inferno you had for Chloe that was never completely quelled when you and I dated. I'm not sorry to be here celebrating your happiness with you . . . it would just be silly wishing someone you care about ill when they were clearly never meant for you anyway."

"Thanks for saying that, Kara," Jimmy blushed, "You look amazing by the way. I didn't know they made dresses that hot in Minnesota . . . of course Chloe is the most beautiful of them all today and everyday but you don't look half bad," he complimented, this time making Kara blush, "You're blushing . . . I forgot how cute you are when you do that . . . any luck with the men-folk back home?"

"No," Kara told him stoutly, "Not really looking for anybody to keep me warm at night right now . . . just concentrating on living my life without any family to back me up . . . it's the first time I've really been on my own," she added, not including her time in The Phantom Zone, ". . . it's kind of liberating . . . Besides, the last guy I dated set the standards pretty high."

Jimmy smiled and nodded, "It's good to have standards Kara. It may not have worked out between me and you but you deserve the best. I hope you find that special someone someday."

"I'm sure I will but I'm still young . . . there's still plenty of time for me to fight my way through the adoring masses of men and women to the one who's right for me," she said with a laugh. Jimmy had that effect on her whether they were dating or not, her laugh always came more freely around him . . . that's just the way it was.

"The adoring masses of men and women, huh?" Jimmy smirked, "Good luck with that."

Kara smiled at him, and put on a show of just how distressed she was from the stress of wading through her many suitors, sighing dramatically, "Thanks,I need it."

Jimmy chuckled and looked past her at Chloe dancing with Clark, noticing that their song was ending, "Sorry, babe, but I have a wife I've got to go dance with . . . If I stay away too long she might realize how dumb she was for agreeing to marry me in the first place."

"Chloe is anything but dumb, Jimmy," Kara chided him, even though he was only making a joke, "She's the smartest girl I know and she did good."

"Thanks . . . See you around," he said, licking his lips as he set his sights on his bride.

"Go get her, tiger," she teased as he dashed off excitedly toward his wife, leaving Kara chuckling at his eagerness.

The truth was that Clark had come to get her from Kandor, the last remaining city of Krypton, as it had been her home before the planet died. Upon discovering it still existed she'd instantly decided that that was the best place for her, but she didn't find the comfort in it that she'd thought she would. After three years of traveling through space to get to Earth and then spending eighteen years trapped in suspension within the confines of her ship she hadn't changed, but Kandor had. It wasn't at all like what she remembered and even though she lived among fellow Kryptonians and a host of different aliens from dozens of different galaxies, and the colors she loved so much that weren't available on Earth were there, she somehow felt more alien there than on Earth; not to mention the fact that, unlike on Earth, in Kandor she was powerless, and as much as she hated to admit it, she liked the powers the yellow sun gave her. It was exhilarating feeling to be able to hear a dog barking a mile away, to run faster than a speeding bullet, to shoot fire out of her eyes, and just fly away any time she felt like she needed to, even if it was just for the thrill of feeling the wind in her hair or to be that much closer to the stars. Being back in a familiar atmosphere, the Kent Farm, and around people she knew and loved felt more right than her old home did, so she'd made the decision to stay on Earth and only visit Kandor from time to time in case she ever got homesick for the red sun or the various colors she loved so much.

Here on Earth she could make a difference just like Clark did everyday . . . she could help people who, otherwise, could not help themselves. She knew that outwardly she appeared disinterested in the human race, but secretly she found them fascinating and if she could help them with the powers they were never destined to possess, then why not? It was the most logical existence she could come up with, not to mention the most fulfilling. Getting to meet and speak with Martha Kent, Clark's adoptive mother, who reminded her so much of her Aunt Lara, only helped solidify things in her mind. Her decision to remain on Earth was one of the reasons she was so eager for Clark to offer her a dance . . . she couldn't wait to see the look on his face when she told him the news. He'd be a little put out by the idea she knew; she was aware of the fact that she'd been a handful when she'd first been unleashed from her ship, but her time in The Phantom Zone had changed her for the better, matured her in a way that no other experience could, and being on her own in Kandor had only deepened that maturity. She was no longer the petulant young woman who had been so eager to rebel when her baby cousin, who mind-bogglingly towered over her despite her impressive five foot seven and a half inch frame, told her what she ought to do and how to do it . . . she was just Kara now . . . a young woman with a purpose. She'd even discussed this purpose with Oliver Queen, smiling as she remembered their dance together.

Oliver had walked up to her just like so many other men of varying ages had that evening, only he was much more polite. He had manners and she appreciated a good-looking man with manners.

"Hello," he greeted her, his deep brown eyes overflowing with kindness. He smiled at her and her knees went a little bit weak, proving what Clark had told her so many times – that her time on Earth had made her human, had opened her up to human emotions and weaknesses, making her a unique cross of human and Kryptonian. Oliver was the only mortal besides Jimmy so far to have that kind of effect on her.

"Hi," she greeted back, smiling shyly as her knees regained their strength. She was a woman whose knees went a little weak at the sight of a beautiful man, but she certainly wasn't a normal woman and she refused to stay weak, though the restoration of strength to her knees was more due to physical attributes, Kryptonian ones, than her refusal to be mentally and emotionally vulnerable.

"I'm Oliver Queen," he introduced himself, "You're Clark's cousin Kara aren't you?"

She looked at him with wide eyes, "Yes, I'm Kara. How did you know I'm Clark's cousin . . . I'm fairly certain I'd remember if we'd met before."

Oliver blushed a little, smiling a half-smile that was endearing, "You have the same eyes and the color of your dress was kind of a dead give away . . . Clark told me you would be here and I know how much red he wears . . . you're the only girl in the room wearing a red dress and once I saw your eyes I just knew," he explained.

"No one's ever said that to me before," Kara revealed, no one had bothered to study her and Clark very closely, especially since he had dark hair and hers was light . . . people never really got past that part of the inspection, "I didn't know I had his eyes . . . he has his mother's eyes . . . it pleases me to know that I have a piece of my beloved aunt in me. Thank you."

"Rumor has it you look almost exactly like your Aunt Lara . . . Would you like to dance with me?" Oliver asked with easy confidence. She studied him for a moment, he was confident but not like all the other men that had approached her that evening, and he had manners – he wouldn't try anything inappropriate, she was almost certain.

"That would be nice . . . just as long as you promise to keep your hands to yourself," Kara told him, waiting to hear the words come out of his mouth before she accepted his proposal.

"I promise not to do anything that will make you uncomfortable," Oliver promised, his eyes sincere.

"Then I'll dance with you," Kara agreed, taking his proffered hand and letting him lead her onto the dance floor.

He was a good dancer, they were well matched, and he kept his promise . . . he barely touched her waist and held her hand rather delicately. It took a little while for his earlier words to sink in but, eventually, what had been a very pleasant experience, became one of fight or flight for Kara – in her case fight. She pushed herself roughly away from Oliver, his words echoing in her head, _"Rumor has it you look almost exactly like your Aunt Lara . . ."_

"What's wrong? Did I do something to offend you?" Oliver hurried toward her, confused, but she backed away.

"How did you know that I look like my aunt . . . how did you know I have her eyes? How do you even know her name?" Kara demanded. Clark had never mentioned anything about any other humans knowing his true origins besides Lana and Chloe, but somehow, this hot blonde billionaire knew about her and her cousin's Kryptonian roots, and it did not set well with her at all.

Oliver paused, suddenly aware that Kara had no idea that he knew Clark's secret, thereby knowing hers, "I've known Clark for a few years now and we know each others secrets, which means I know yours by default."

Kara took a fistful of Ollie's tuxedo into her hand, twisting it firmly for an iron grip and pressed him up against the nearest barn wall, lifting him off his feet while using her other forearm to compress his trachea, "What do you know?"

Oliver struggled to breathe, but managed to get a few words out, "You and Clark aren't from around here."

Kara's pretty mouth turned from a frown to an outright scowl and her voice was a dangerous hiss as she demanded, "What else?"

"I know that he doesn't like revealing his secret to just anyone, and I swear I'm not just anyone . . . Clark and I help each other out sometimes," Oliver squeaked as the pressure against his throat tightened.

Kara eyed him suspiciously, her eyes dangerous now too, "Why would Clark ever need a human's help . . . especially a useless one like you whose only purpose is to look pretty?"

Oliver managed a laugh through the steel bar of her forearm on his windpipe, "I have many talents and resources that your cousin finds useful . . . I'm not your average pretty boy."

"Name one thing that you could possibly do that my cousin would find useful with all the power he has at his fingertips?" Kara asked, frustrated that he was still charming even when being threatened.

"I run a little known operation called The Justice League . . . ever hear of a man known as Lex Luthor?" he breathed a little easier as she physically and mentally recoiled from the name.

"Unfortunately, I know him a lot better than I'd like," Kara admitted, relenting and setting him on the floor as she removed her arm from its place across his throat, "The Justice League, huh? What does this '_little known operation_' do exactly?"

Oliver smiled at her, rubbing tenderly at his neck, "We like to keep monsters like Lex Luthor in check . . . each member has a special ability that helps us infiltrate secret labs and inhumane experiments being conducted by men with God complexes."

"What's your talent?" She asked curiously, feeling it in her gut that this man wasn't a threat to her or Kal-El. She tried desperately to smooth the severe wrinkles she'd creased into his suit, but mere patting wasn't enough so she thought of another way to fix it. Kara used her heat vision to gently persuade the fabric back to its previous flawlessness like a steam machine used take the wrinkles out of fancy clothing; her father may not have been the best of men, but he'd always rightly praised her for being resourceful.

Oliver watched in interest as she de-wrinkled his suit with her eyes, "Personally, I don't have a super-human gift unless you call Olympic level archery skill super-human . . . I'm more of a strategist, an infiltrator, and the leader of the group; plus, I bankroll the entire operation as well . . . but my tech guys are always coming up with clever new arrow prototypes that come in pretty handy. When we first met, Clark saved my ass a couple of times while I was out patrolling before I had a group of metahumans to help me out, and eventually he told me the truth . . . it's funny because everyone on my team actually met Clark first . . . he's almost like my own private recruiter."

"So you shoot arrows?" Kara asked, disappointed that he didn't have some more prolific talent.

"You make it sound so . . . _insignificant_," Oliver complained, frowning. "Do you have any idea how many illegal research facilities my team and I have incapacitated over the past two years?! We've saved thousands of lives! Our attack on Lex Luthor's Reeve's Dam 33.1 facility released you from the ship you were trapped in for so long."

"Thanks, I guess," Kara shrugged, her expression bored, "What can everyone else on your team do?"

Oliver pointed Victor Stone, who was talking to Pete's plus one, out of the crowd, "That's Victor Stone or Cyborg when he's on a mission . . . X-ray him and you'll figure out why he's earned that particular name."

Kara looked at the young, attractive black man and concentrated her eyesight until her X-ray vision took over her senses. Victor Stone was half-man, half-machine and it looked like all the machine inside his body was some sort of abstractly designed computer, "Wow! How'd that happen to him?"

"A doctor named Alistair Kreig rebuilt him after a fatal car accident that killed his entire family using electrical and mechanical parts and bionics at a facility known as SynTechnics, a subsidiary research compound owned by Lex Luthor," Oliver told her gravely. "He was the only test subject who survived the experiments."

Kara frowned again, "How did he meet Clark?"

"When a doctor helped him escape he was hit by Lana's car and walked away without a scratch, which, of course, meant that Clark found out since Lana was involved. He tried to help Victor evade SynTechnics and Lex Luthor so he could return to the only person he loved who was still alive . . . his girlfriend, Katherine . . . the evasion was successful but Katherine left him," Oliver intoned solemnly, "She couldn't handle Victor version 2.0 . . . when I found him he was living on the streets, but when I found out what he could do, I recruited him and gave him a few upgrades . . . he's excellent for hacking into computer systems."

"That's so sad," Kara enunciated, her voice downtrodden at the handsome young man's plight.

Oliver nodded in agreement, "He seems to be having fun tonight though . . . I've never seen him this happy . . . he must really like Pete's date."

"Good for him," Kara expounded, hoping that he would be one of those people who got a happy ending. "Who else here is in your 'League'?"

Oliver searched the crowd again, spotting Bart next and pointing him out, "That's Bart Allen, otherwise known as Impulse."

Kara wrinkled her nose, still remembering the stories Chloe had told her about Bart, "I've heard about him, but nothing I was told led me to believe he's special in the kind of way that Victor is. What's his deal?"

"Well, like Victor, Clark met him before I did . . . when he was a little kid he was in an accident with a bright flash of light, according to him, and ever since then he's been able to move at super-speed . . . believe it or not, he's actually faster than Clark and probably you," Oliver commented, a small smile on his face as she rolled her eyes at the possibility of any mere human being faster than her or Clark, "He ran away from his parents because they didn't understand him and stole whatever he wanted, including Jonathan Kent's wallet, which is how he and Clark met . . . your cousin, ever the do-gooder, tried to instill a sense of right and wrong into him but he was just a kid and it took a little while for the lessons Clark wanted to teach him to sink in," Oliver explained, "I found him a couple years later also living on the streets, stealing only food . . . I saw a lot of potential in him so I offered him a job."

"Why is he called Impulse?" Kara asked, dubiously. "Cyborg is a very obvious name for Victor, but Impulse . . . What does that have to do with anything?"

Oliver chuckled, still fingering his throat, "I dare you to have a conversation with him . . . if you do you'll understand why he was named that against his will. He wanted to be called 'The Flash' or something hokey like that, but he does everything impulsively without any thought beforehand . . . hence, Impulse."

"I get it," Kara caught on, watching Bart looking from girl to girl, impulsively choosing one and following her until he could get close enough to hit on her. She used her super-hearing to listen in on the conversation and knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the pick-up line he'd chosen had come off the top of his head even though his delivery had been smooth and chuckled. "Anybody else?"

Oliver found Dinah easily, considering the color of her dress, and pointed her out, "That's Dinah Lance or The Black Canary . . . It makes no sense when you see her now because she's in costume to promote her day job as a talk show host that rallies against injustice but that long dark hair of hers is really a wig . . . In reality she has short canary yellow hair, and when she's on duty for the League she wears all black, including black fishnets," Oliver told Kara, who was no longer angry but absolutely enthralled, ". . . hence Black Canary."

"What's her ability?" Kara asked, she wasn't used to the idea of humans having super powers and it fascinated her to no end.

Oliver smiled at Kara's childlike curiosity, "She has what can only be described as a subsonic scream . . . it generates a really powerful sound wave that can break glass and disintegrate my arrows . . . it made Clark's ears bleed when he was exposed to it, probably because of his super-hearing. Plus, she's seriously good at kicking ass and throwing knives around . . . that part comes in handy a lot more than one might think."

"Anyone else?" Kara demanded, still stuck in her aura of captivation.

Oliver searched for A.C. and spotted him pleading with a waiter, who was looking at him like he was insane for turning down free alcohol, for a glass of water instead of champagne. Oliver pointed him out to Kara, who had an unsuspected reaction to the aquatic Justice Leaguer. Her cheeks flushed pink and all of a sudden she felt very hot even though she knew the evening air was in a happy medium between too warm and too cold. He was wearing a bright orange bow tie and a bright green cummerbund that shone out brilliantly against the crisp black and white of his tuxedo and he had a charming drawl that she heard using her super-hearing as he attempted to get a server just to bring him a plain glass of water instead of alcohol. The sound of his drawl took her to very naughty places, places she'd never been before.

"What's his deal?" Kara asked, her voice unsteady and an octave higher than it had been only a few seconds ago, her palms sweating so badly she had to wipe them on her dress. She fidgeted horribly as she watched the hot sandy-brown haired male finally acquire his glass of water with a satisfied expression on his face that she could only describe as delicious.

Oliver went on as he had with the others, pretending not to notice Kara's odd behavior when she caught sight of who he was pointing at, "That is Arthur Curry but he prefers A.C.. His Justice League name is Aquaman . . . the name is self-explanatory really. He swims the way Bart can run, faster than Clark, which probably means faster than you too. He can also hold his breath underwater for long periods of time, has super strength if he's not allowed to dehydrate, can communicate with most marine life and can generate a ball of energy underwater that can be used as a form of self-defense or as a weapon depending on the situation . . . He met Clark before I did as well. He saved Lois from drowning a few years back and they had a thing, but it didn't work out because he couldn't stay away from the sea . . . in his own way, he's a terrorist against those that would do any marine life or the ecosystems of marine life any harm, but he's dialed it back a bit to a more manageable, less criminal degree," Oliver concluded, noting that Kara's cheeks were now as just as red as her dress and she was nervously distracted, partially by A.C. himself, and partially unreasonably jealous of his past with Lois.

It took several seconds for her to draw her attention away from A.C. but eventually she found herself gazing at Oliver again, "Anyone else?"

Oliver nodded his head toward Chloe, "Meet Watchtower, the cyber-brains of our operation whenever we're on a really important mission . . . she makes sure each one of us is online, communicating and functioning properly, and saves our asses by giving us alternative solutions when our plans don't go as smoothly as we always hope they will," he explained, ". . . and by the way, while you were gone Clark had Chloe's memory of the real him, which also means the real you as well, wiped from her brain, so you're going to have to be careful around her."

"Why would he do that?" Kara's eyes widened as she looked at the bride, gazing on her role model as if she'd never seen her clearly before, but she frowned at the last bit of information.

"Brainiac wreaked some serious havoc with her memory and Clark felt guilty about it, blaming himself like always, so he had Jor-El erase any memory of the real him because he didn't want to cause her anymore pain," Ollie revealed, morosely. "Clark's codename is Boy Scout by the way."

"Clark is a part of The Justice League?" Kara asked, immediately irritated with her cousin for not mentioning this to her.

"Unofficially," Oliver elaborated, ". . . like I told you before, we've helped each other out a few times, but he's never made a permanent commitment to it."

"Oh," Kara absorbed, her irritation decreasing slightly as she gazed at Clark. She turned her attention back to Oliver, "What about you?"

"I thought we already covered me," Oliver fussed, annoyed, he wasn't in the mood for her to tell him that he was nothing special when he had an active project he needed to get back to.

"All the others have codenames," Kara explained, looking at him seriously, "What's yours?"

"Green Arrow," he supplied simply.

"Why green?" She asked, her childlike fascination with The Justice League still intact.

"The arrows on my family crest are green, archery has always been a specialty of the Queen family, and I wear a green leather suit whenever I'm doing anything Justice League related," Oliver told her.

"Oh," Kara took in the answer, but he could tell she had more questions, ". . . does anyone else wear a leather costume?"

"Pretty much everyone except for Aquaman," he revealed, ". . . he prefers a wetsuit, an orange and green wetsuit," he added, just to see what her reaction to that piece of knowledge would be.

Kara didn't disappoint. She fixed her eyes on A.C. again and bit her perfectly stained red lip as she imagined him in a skin-tight orange and green wetsuit . . . her palms started to sweat again and the temperature seemed to rise several degrees for her because she was absent-mindedly fanning her face, which was still as red as her dress. This was nothing compared to the minute crush she'd had on Jimmy . . . sure he'd been cute and there had been butterflies but A.C. sent waves of tingly fire from her core to every nerve ending in her body, and the butterflies he caused were monstrous in comparison. She'd told Jimmy earlier that she wasn't looking for a relationship at the moment but one look at A.C. had her head spinning and her stomach twisting in knots. She'd never felt like this before about anyone . . . she'd never had a boyfriend on Krypton and what she'd had with Jimmy was a schoolgirl's crush. Kara forced herself to focus on all the information Oliver had given her. Of course she wanted to do something about her attraction to A.C. but she didn't know what to do, and she planned on turning to Oliver for help, aware that he'd been watching her inner turmoil and obvious attraction to the aquatic member of the League. However, there was something more pressing she needed to discuss with him.

"So how does one become a member of this 'Justice League'?" She asked seriously.

Oliver studied her for a moment, surprised at her u-turn of a mood swing, "Well, it's not like we have a hazing ritual or anything. Why do you want to know?"

Kara paused for a second, she'd really wanted Kal-El to be the first person she told about her decision to remain on Earth but it didn't look like he was going to be available for a while, so she decided to share her secret with Oliver instead, "I really wanted Clark to be the first to know, but I've decided to live on Earth permanently now."

"Really?" Oliver questioned her, surprised. "Clark told me you were off searching for your old home on Krypton, Kandor, is it?"

"Yes," she stated simply.

"He made it sound like you'd found it and were living there," Oliver revealed.

"I was," Kara told him, "but it's not my childhood home anymore . . . it's different and lonely and I really kind of like having the powers the yellow sun gives me. I want to help people . . . something it seems you and I have in common."

Oliver smiled at her, totally caught off guard, "Well, I'm always looking for people to add to my team if you're interested."

Kara moved her eyes briefly to A.C. before returning Oliver's gaze, "I was hoping you'd say that but, in my case, I was sort of wondering if you might haze me."

Oliver's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "You want to be hazed? Why? How?"

She stared at A.C. again, her mouth watering with lust before turning to Oliver desperately, "Help me."

"With what?" Oliver smiled vaguely, playing dumb.

"A.C.," she pleaded, "I've never had a boyfriend before, and I don't know what to do . . . help me . . . please?"

~*~

Oliver's P.O.V.

Oliver had already sent A.C. to dance with Lois to make Clark jealous so as far as he was concerned, unless Lex really _wasn't_ dead and tried to pull something sinister at the wedding, A.C. was free to do as he pleased. Besides, he was already playing matchmaker that night anyway, he might as well do yet another good deed that evening . . . in addition to Project Clois he'd placed Victor Stone's meal card next to Pete's date, Vanessa. After assessing the pair, he'd realized that Pete and Vanessa were just friends, so he thought he'd tweak things a bit and see if Victor and Vanessa would hit it off. Fate was apparently on his side that day because Victor and Vanessa had already met before dinner and had hit it off, so his meddling had been a good thing. He returned his attention back to the couple at hand, Kara and A.C.. He could imagine the two of them connecting right away . . . they both had a sort of beach type vibe going for them, but he'd only find out if that was true if he introduced the two.

Kara honestly looked lost and scared at the idea of even approaching A.C., who seemed to affect her tremendously, and his heart went out to the young woman. Maybe if he played Cupid enough tonight, Karma might reward him with his own perfect match.

"Okay, I'll help you," Oliver agreed, smiling. He grabbed her hand, surprised to find it clammy with nervous sweat, and steered her toward where A.C. was standing amongst the guests.

~*~

A.C.'s P.O.V.

"Hey A.C.," Ollie greeted casually, holding hands with the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his life.

She had blonde, perfectly wavy hair with loose curls, amazing blue eyes, perfect bone structure, and the most delicious lips he'd ever laid eyes on. She was tall, probably around five foot seven, and her body was exquisitely proportioned, which was shown clearly by the clingy blood red wrap dress she was wearing that had a torturously high slit up her long, lean thigh. Her skin looked so soft all he wanted to do was touch it, but his palms were sweating and his stomach was twisting into knots at the sight of her and he was fairly certain he was blushing again.

"Oliver," A.C. acknowledged, the only word he could get out around his 'boss'' mystery girl.

"Have you met Clark's cousin, Kara, yet?" Oliver asked, casually pulling Kara around so she was loosely sandwiched between the two attractive men.

"No, I haven't," A.C. admitted, turning another shade of pink as he stuck out his hand for Kara to shake, watching his as his 'boss' disappeared from behind the mystery girl, leaving the two of them alone, his voice nervous, "I'm Arthur but I prefer A.C. . . . It's nice to meet you."

Kara stared timidly at his hand for a moment before taking it in hers and firmly shaking it, "I'm Kara and it's nice to meet you too."

A.C. was relieved that her voice sounded as nervous as his did, but what truly surprised him was the electric zing that pulsed through his body when their hands touched . . . he'd never felt anything like that with anyone else, Lois included, and he considered his short time with the beautiful, mouthy brunette sacred territory . . . it made him feel alive in a way he'd never felt before. His pulse was racing and he was sweating, which was bad . . . the last thing he needed was to get so dehydrated around the one girl with whom he had chemistry and start to get all weak and scaly . . . he needed more water and quickly. A server happened to be passing by at that particular moment so A.C. requested a couple bottles of water instead of just a glass, hoping that they would keep him satiated while he talked to Clark's cousin.

"How's Minnesota treating you?" A.C. asked, suddenly finding the situation humorous.

Kara narrowed her eyes at him but not in an unkind way, "You and I both know I'm not really from Minnesota . . ."

"True," A.C. conceded, grinning. "I just wasn't sure if you were comfortable sharing that information with a complete stranger."

"That was . . . sweet of you," Kara said shyly, looking a little like a deer caught in the headlights, "Mix your consideration in with that Southern drawl and you're the perfect Southern gentleman."

A.C. blushed again, "How do you know I'm a gentleman? Maybe I'm the bad guy?"

Kara outright laughed, making A.C. blush ever deeper, "The goodness inside you is radiating off the surface of your skin . . . there's no way you're the bad guy!"

"I've done bad things before," A.C. defended, trying to hang on to the last shreds of coolness he was attempting to project to this mystery girl he was already instinctually crazy for, ". . . but they were _good_ bad things."

Kara smiled widely, her voice triumphant, "See, I told you . . . pure gentleman through and through . . . So how long have you known Clark?"

"We met three and a half years ago," A.C. revealed, "I was in town because of a project of Lex Luthor's called Leviathan . . . Clark helped me stop him from using it to destroy the world's oceanic ecosystems, and from making another prototype. You'd be amazed how many expensive science experiments are lost because the people doing them are so scared of the trouble they'd get into if they're caught that they fail to back up the data."

Kara laughed suddenly, leaving A.C. with a wary and confused look on his face, "I was just thinking that if you'd happened to speed swim through Reeves Dam three and a half years ago, maybe you could have rescued me and Lois."

A.C. sighed . . . so she knew the truth, no doubt from Oliver; however, it was only fair that if he knew her secret that she know his.

"I'm sorry," Kara apologized immediately, her nervousness coming off of her tangibly, "Did I make you uncomfortable? We don't have to talk about anything like that if you don't want to."

"Oh honey, don't apologize," A.C. insisted, worried he'd offended her, "I'm more than okay talking with you about my abilities . . . Besides, I wouldn't be that perfect Southern gentleman if we talked about your secret and not mine."

"Yeah," she agreed, nodding her perfect blonde head. "I had a run-in with Oliver Queen right before he brought me over to introduce us."

"A run-in?" A.C. arched his eyebrows, a questioning look decorating his handsome features.

"He invited me to dance and I accepted because he has manners, unlike most all the other men I've danced with this evening, and he mentioned something about Clark and how I look a lot like my Aunt Lara, Clark's birth mother. Clark hadn't told me that any humans besides Lana and Chloe knew about our true origins . . . I went a little berserk," she admitted, blushing as she recalled grilling Oliver for everything he knew about her and her cousin.

"Berserk?" A.C. queried, not quite sure if he wanted to know, yet the appeal of having something to tease Oliver about was mighty tempting at the same time.

"I grabbed him by his tuxedo, body-slammed him into one of the barn walls and nearly choked him to death until he explained himself," Kara sighed, embarrassed, ". . . Clark's the only family I have left . . . I'm a little overprotective."

"That's understandable," A.C. nodded, it was hard enough not having his mother, he couldn't even begin to imagine what life would be like without his father, ". . . Ollie has really had some awful luck today. First, Lois decks him, making his face all black and blue, and then you nearly choke him to death . . . He definitely likes his women feisty, but last I checked he wasn't into sado-masochism."

"I don't feel that way about Oliver," Kara said hurriedly, ". . . we just talked. He told me all about The Justice League, so, in all fairness, he pretty much outed you before you had any idea I existed. I think that makes us even."

"It's nice to know that we're square . . . you're not someone I'd like to owe a favor to," A.C. revealed, startling Kara with his words.

She looked at him strangely, as though she couldn't quite figure him out but desperately wanted to, "Why?"

A.C. blushed, "Because I don't think I could ever deny you anything you wanted of me."

"Oh," Kara took the words in and realization hit her like a ton of bricks and she blushed too.

"You're really cute when you blush," A.C. said, a tad boldly. The comment only made her blush more as she remembered Jimmy repeating those exact words to her only an hour or so before. She took her time to respond, not meeting his eyes for several moments.

"So what does it feel like?" She asked curiously.

"What does what feel like?" A.C. asked, presuming they were still on the topic of his abilities.

"Being able to swim faster than a launched submarine missile?"

"It's amazing," A.C. admitted, letting the memory of the act wash over his body as he smiled, "I never feel quite so alive as I do when I'm speeding around in the water . . . with only one exception so far."

"I know how you feel in a way," Kara claimed, ". . . It's such a rush to be able to go from Earth to outer space in a matter of seconds . . . it really does make you feel alive . . . May I ask what your exception is?

"You can . . . but I won't tell you the answer," A.C. told her blatantly, his lips forming a firm, straight line, a look he hoped would deter her from asking about his exception. He couldn't very well tell a girl he'd just met, who was from another planet no less, that the only time he'd ever felt as alive as he did while he was speeding through the water like a torpedo was just a few minutes ago when their hands had touched in a formal introduction.

"Why? I thought you couldn't deny me anything . . ." She asked, teasing at first, but then her lower lip protruded in the most beautiful pout, dashing his hopes that she would leave the subject alone.

"If I tell you the answer you may not think of me as a perfect Southern gentleman anymore," he admitted bashfully, "I kind of like having a girl as exquisite as you thinking that of me and if I told you the truth I don't think you would any longer."

"Really?" She was even more curious now, and, as he'd suspected, he _couldn't_ deny her anything, "I promise I won't tell anyone if it's embarrassing or something . . . you can trust me, I swear."

A.C. closed his eyes and shook his head, knowing he already trusted her even though they'd only known each other for a half an hour. He had to close his eyes to keep from staring at the beautifully tragic expression on her face as she willed him to trust her with his secret. He couldn't bear to see her with that expression so he caved, "You."

"Me? What about me? I thought we were talking about you," she said, still pouting, confusion clouding her eyes.

"I am," A.C. explained, bashful once more as well as a little mortified, ". . . just a few minutes ago when we shook hands . . . when our skin touched . . . I've never felt more alive."

"Oh!" Kara squeaked in surprise, sucking in a breath through her mouth and letting it gape a little. It wasn't much but it was enough to send more blood burning to his cheeks than he thought possible. She shut her mouth, the surprise still evident in her eyes, then opened it again, repeating this ritual three times.

A.C. thought he was going to die of embarrassment . . . he wished he could take the words back. He'd rather she see him all shriveled and scaly with the way she was looking at him now.

"Please say something so I don't feel like a complete idiot," he begged her piteously.

Kara finally blinked and seemed to recover herself, immediately repentant, "I'm sorry, A.C. . . . Please don't feel like an idiot," she pleaded, taking her turn to beg, "I'm the idiot . . . I don't know how to handle situations like this . . ."

"It's fine," A.C. rushed out, the last thing he wanted was to make her feel uncomfortable, though he knew with certainty that he already had. He didn't want her to leave. He liked talking to her . . . he liked her, but that didn't excuse the idiocy of actually telling her so, especially so soon after they'd met. "You don't have to apologize, Kara. I shouldn't have said anything, but I can hardly believe you don't know how to deal with situations like this. You must get mobbed by all kinds of guys . . . maybe even a few girls."

"I know how to handle situations in which a guy is impolite," Kara clarified, trying to keep her voice steady, ". . . I have plenty of experience dealing with that . . . it's the good guys I don't know what to do with."

A.C. was befuddled. Did that mean she wasn't sorry he'd told her his secret?

"I'm not sure I understand," he confessed, "Does that mean you think I'm a good guy?"

Kara forgot her nervousness for a millisecond and rolled her eyes, "You're part of a team called The Justice League which helps save the world from people like _Lex Luthor_ . . . the fact that you're a good guy is very much a given."

"I still don't understand," A.C. repeated, truly flummoxed by her mysteriousness.

Kara stared at him like he was dumb, "Do you think it was just a coincidence Oliver brought me over here and introduced me to you?"

A.C. shrugged, "Ollie likes to play matchmaker . . . I guess I just figured he was up to something of that sort when he introduced us."

Kara laughed, "He brought me over here because I asked him to, A.C.. I wanted to meet you because just the sight of you made my palms all sweaty, my heart beat like crazy, and my stomach twist into knots . . . when I said I didn't know how to handle situations like this I meant that I don't know what to do when a guy likes me back . . . I've never really had a boyfriend before."

"You wanted to meet me?" A.C. couldn't help but grin, "So you felt it too, then?"

"Yes," she confessed, her tone evening out, apparently he had found the magic words to quell her nervousness and she smiled brilliantly at him, not shyly as she had at first, "I've never felt so alive in my entire life."

"Is this weird?" He asked suddenly, afraid that this was way too good to be true, "I've never really believed in love at first sight before but . . . looking at you I'm starting to believe that it actually happens."

"Have you ever _been_ in love?" Kara asked, fixing him in place with her gorgeous blue eyes.

"No," he told her confidentially, ". . . you probably don't want to hear this but the closest I've ever come to loving someone was when I met Lois all those years ago."

"You're right," she agreed instantly, her face pinching up in the most adorable yet entirely sexy way, "I really didn't want to hear that."

"Have you ever been in love?" He repeated her question. He wasn't ignoring the fact that she'd told him straight up that she'd never had a boyfriend but sometimes, though he thought the majority of it unlikely to be true, one could fall subject to real unrequited love.

"No," she answered honestly, reading his thoughts, "but I think I might be falling."

This information made A.C. grin stupidly, and he confidently reassured her, "Don't worry, I'll catch you, darlin'."

"Oh, I'm counting on that," Kara told him, her voice mildly flirtatious. "Would you like to dance with me Arthur Curry?"

"I'd love nothing more," he said, holding out his hand for her to take and feeling the same electric zing course throughout out him as when they'd shaken hands earlier as she took it, the lovely accentuated feeling of being alive tugging at every nerve ending in his body.

"Good," she said smiling, ". . . because you're going to have to get used to me . . . I told Oliver that I'd like to join The Justice League."

A.C. couldn't believe his luck, "What happened to Minnesota?"

Kara wrinkled her nose again, "It's not the same as when I lived there before . . . I went there to find comfort but all I found was more chaos . . . plus, I kind of like Earth . . . humans are interesting and, to be frank, I love all the powers the yellow sun gives me and I want to use them to help people."

"Guess I'm not the only good person participating in this conversation," he teased, pulling her into his arms in the middle of the dance floor. "Just a warning . . . I'm a decent dancer but I have a tendency to step on my dance partner's feet."

Kara shrugged indifferently, "It's more likely that your foot would get hurt from stepping on mine than the other way around . . . and, technically, I'm not really a person," she reminded him with a pointed gaze. If things were headed in the direction she hoped they were he was going to have to remember that always.

"You look like a person," he argued lightly, "and you act like a person . . . the only thing remotely alien about you would be if you decided to wear something green instead of red or blue, and if your cousin's any indication of that then I suspect that would be a no."

"But I'm not a person, A.C., whether or not I look and act like one," Kara protested, trying to get her message across, "I'm very capable of hurting you and you have to remember that . . . as far as the green goes, I'll let you wear all of it . . . it looks good on you and I _like_ my red and blue . . . they remind me of home."

"I'll let you in on a little secret," he told her, confidentially, leaning close so he could whisper in her ear, ". . . I'm not human either . . . and, honestly, I don't care what you wear as long as you agree to go on a date with me," A.C. slid the date part in smoothly.

"What? What do you mean you're not human?" Kara cried sharply in surprise.

"I'm the long lost king of Atlantis," he admitted quietly, wondering what her reaction to that tid-bit of news would be.

"Wow!" Kara exclaimed, wide-eyed, "I sure know how to pick them."

"No one else knows okay," A.C. emphasized, "so please don't mention it."

"I would never do that," Kara promised, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Now about that date . . ." A.C. returned back to the subject that actually had him nervous. He'd thought that revealing his Atlantean roots would be a hard thing to admit to anyone; he knew because on several occasions he'd tried to tell Oliver and hadn't been able to follow through, making up lame anecdotes to account for the lack of information he provided.

"As long as you mind your manners, I can agree to that," Kara accepted, making him feel like the luckiest metahuman alive, ". . . if just looking at you and touching you makes me feel this way I can't wait to find out what it feels like to kiss you."

A.C. laughed, "I don't kiss on the first date, sweetheart."

This wasn't entirely true . . . A.C. did kiss on most first dates he went on but only because he knew that he'd soon be moving on, swimming speedily from one corner of the ocean to another to help where he could. Whenever he was in a town on a mission and happened to meet a girl who shared his interest, he did kiss on the first date because he knew he'd be leaving, but things were different with Kara. She was going to be living on Earth now and she was going to be a part of The Justice League; plus, she was one of the few women on the planet who could keep up with him . . . he'd never have to leave her behind because she wasn't going anywhere and neither was he. This altered his view of dating drastically . . . in truth, he really didn't like kissing on the first date but his lifestyle didn't permit this luxury until now, so he was going to do things right this time around and be the perfect Southern gentleman Kara believed he was, because deep down this was the way he'd always wanted to do things as far as relationships were concerned . . . he just never thought he'd ever get to have one.

Kara poked her lower lip out again in her beautiful pout, "Why not?"

"Because I'm a perfect Southern gentleman," he said playfully, using her words against her.

"What if I kiss you first?" She asked, arching her eyebrow sexily.

"Well," A.C. pretended to contemplate, "You aren't human and even though I'm strong, you're stronger . . . so it's not like I could stop you," he mused, grinning widely before turning dead sober, "I'd really rather you didn't though . . . because I move around so often I don't really get past more than a couple dates . . . I've never felt this way before so I'd rather not rush it . . . make absolutely certain that you're not way too good to be true."

Kara pouted again, "Well, when you put it that way it would seem cruel of me not to respect your wishes . . . besides, I have manners too. My father wasn't the greatest role model but my mother and aunt were . . . they taught me how to be a proper lady . . . I won't shame their memory by acting like a, what's the word . . . skank?"

"I don't think you could act like that if you tried," A.C. disagreed, wholeheartedly believing his assessment.

"It's unwise for you to challenge me," Kara advised, "I don't usually back down from them . . . taunt me enough and I might set out to seduce you on purpose."

"I thought you didn't know how to handle those types of situations," A.C. raised his eyebrows.

"I'm a fast learner," she threatened seriously, though he could hear a faint trace of teasing in her voice.

"I guess I'll have to be a Boy Scout then," he amended, amused.

"I've heard of those before," Kara giggled, her mind wandering to dirty places, ". . . aren't they always supposed to '_be prepared_'?"

A.C. blushed a deeper scarlet than he had all evening and she laughed at him openly. She could hear him swallowing very hard as he tried to come up with some sort of retort to her mildly dirty repartee. When he was unable to come up with anything clever, he simply stated, "You've got me there . . . I guess I'll just always have to be prepared then, won't I?"

Kara giggled again and looked him in the eyes playfully, "Guess so."

"You might make me feel more alive than anything else on this planet but if you keep at it the way you're going, you'll be the death of me," A.C. whined, which Kara found totally irresistible and sexy.

"It would be a sweet way to go," she laughed, starting to feel totally at ease in his presence. He noticed because he was starting to feel the same way.

A.C. conceded the point, "True."

~*~

Oliver's P.O.V.

Oliver had been doing a lot of watching during the entirety of the wedding so far. He didn't ever remember watching other people so much before, especially not a bunch of people falling in love right before his very eyes. First, there had been Victor and Vanessa, which he'd had a hand in and didn't regret for a second, and Vanessa seemed more than willing to accept Victor as Cyborg . . . Oliver knew that Victor hadn't told her yet but he could read people and somehow he just knew that when the time was right and he decided to tell her the truth, she'd take it in stride . . . then, there had been Pete and Lucy, a pairing he never would have guessed in a million years after her performance with Clark, but apparently Pete got Lucy in a way that no one else seemed to . . . he calmed her, made her into an actual person and not just a libido walking around in a bag of bones. He was actually very grateful to Pete because now he didn't have to keep his promise to her about saving her a dance . . . he wasn't in the mood to be mauled . . . then, of course, there had been Lois and Clark, which he couldn't have orchestrated more perfectly if he'd tried, but it had hurt him to see them together, an unwelcome surprise he hadn't been expecting . . . that was life, it was painful sometimes, but the pain he felt wasn't unbearable, '_I'm giving up my soul mate_' pain, it was already subsiding. Now he watched as Kara and A.C. bonded romantically, which involved a lot of blushing on both their parts, but the more they talked the more comfortable they seemed to get around each other, and they had that look in their eyes . . . the one that denoted the beginnings of crazy, beautiful, perfect love.

All around him people were pairing up but there was no one for him and for one sardonic moment he was bitter that he wasn't getting to experience what everyone else was. Why didn't he feel alive when a woman touched him? Why couldn't he experience a kiss so intense it made him float? Why couldn't he find that one person who would be willing to accept him for who he was both night and day? Why couldn't he be lucky enough to find a person who saw right through his mask and was willing to coach him until he was ready to expose the person he really was to the whole world?

It didn't seem fair, but that was life again . . . it was rarely, if ever, fair . . . bad things happened to good people all the time, good things happened to bad people all the time and that's what he had to focus on at the moment or he thought he'd rip his hair out as he experienced an overwhelming sense of loneliness. He had to focus on making sure good things happened to good people, and that bad people got their comeuppance. He'd made it his duty to ensure this the day he'd first donned his green leather suit and strung his first specially designed bow with his first specifically unique arrow. He'd shed his skin that day. He wasn't Oliver Queen anymore, he was someone much more important with a much higher purpose than climbing the corporate ladder, though in actuality he'd hadn't had to do any climbing, it had all just fallen into his proverbial lap when he'd come of age . . . he was Green Arrow, a super hero, a defender of the bereft and helpless . . . Oliver Queen was his façade and knowing that what he did at night gave people hope actually helped him sleep better than he'd ever slept in his life, but he was tired of sleeping alone half the time and even more tired of waking up to a different woman in his bed every morning the other half of the time. He wanted more . . . being Green Arrow wasn't enough anymore . . . he wanted to have someone to share his secret with, someone who would be proud of his endeavors to make the world a better place, someone he cared for so much he simply couldn't leave her behind, not even for the greater good. For once he wanted to be selfish . . . He sighed, frustrated with himself. He didn't want all these conflicting thoughts and emotions . . . he wanted it to go back to the way things used to be . . . he wanted Green Arrow to be enough for him, but Green Arrow was a super hero, and Oliver Queen was just a man . . . an imperfect specimen who wanted the things that most men, even aliens, wanted . . . someone to come home to, someone to love . . . his heart ached for it and he realized then that the pain he'd been feeling wasn't remorse over losing Lois to Clark . . . his heart ached for the kind of love they shared and he didn't know how much more of that ache he could stand.

There was only one person in the entire universe he could think of who could even remotely relate to how he was feeling right this moment and he'd been meaning to call him about joining up with the League anyway.

Oliver pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, scrolled down to the number he wanted and pressed send.

"Hey Oliver, what's going on?" The deep, dark voice greeted and questioned.

"Bruce, hi," Oliver greeted back, the tone of his friend's voice somewhat comforting. If Bruce Wayne could manage to always sound like it was the end of the world, then maybe there was hope for him yet.

~*~

Chloe's P.O.V.

"Hey, new husband of mine," Chloe sang out to Jimmy, so happy her voice was chirpy.

"Yes, new wife of mine?" Jimmy responded, equally happy.

"I was thinking," Chloe started, "that since you and Ollie have been playing matchmaker all day that maybe I could get in on some of the action."

"But Project Clois is a success," Jimmy frowned at her, not seeing where she was going with her train of thought.

"I know," she chirped, smiling, "but it's not a complete success because they aren't telling anybody yet . . . I was hoping we might force their hand."

"How so?" Jimmy, ever the Clois matchmaker, asked, intrigued.

"I know that usually at weddings the bride and groom cut the cake before the bride throws the bouquet and the groom tosses the garter, but what if we did it the other way around? Maybe Lois and Clark won't show up on the dance floor when all the single people are called together . . . the only logical assumption people who really know them would have would be that they aren't single and it would be obvious that the two of them are together . . . or, if they do decide to show up on the dance floor, we could launch our respective wedding weapons at them and maybe get them to admit it that way."

"I like where you're going with this . . . I knew I married you for some reason," Jimmy teased, kissing her on the nose.

"So you want to do it?" Chloe asked, her eyes lighting up at his praise.

"Definitely," Jimmy agreed, "just let me go and tell Oliver . . . he was the miracle worker behind Project Clois and I'd hate to leave him out."

"Okay . . . go . . . tell," she encouraged vehemently, so enamored by her idea that she wanted to do it as soon as possible.

~*~

Jimmy's P.O.V.

Jimmy approached Oliver, who was standing in a corner of the barn, talking discreetly on his cell phone in a low voice. When he noticed Jimmy standing there, he wrapped up his conversation quickly and slipped his phone back into his pocket.

"Hey Olsen," Oliver greeted, his voice fakely cheery.

"Oliver," Jimmy nodded, taking in the expression on his new friend's face, it was dark and dreary . . . he didn't like it, "I just thought you'd want to know that Chloe and I are planning an epilogue for Project Clois."

Oliver's eyebrows furrowed, his face still holding its dark expression, "An epilogue? What do you have in mind?"

"Chloe came up with it," Jimmy explained, "She's hoping that if we're successful that maybe Lois and Clark will come out of the closet with their relationship . . . she wants to throw her bouquet at Lois and me to toss her garter at Clark to see if maybe it'll provoke them to bring their relationship out in the open."

"Don't the bride and groom usually cut the cake first?" Oliver questioned, his expression slowly but surely lightening.

"Well, yeah, but Chloe wants to reverse it," Jimmy told him.

"Go for it," Oliver approved, though he knew that their plan wouldn't work. He knew why Clark had asked him to keep quiet about his and Lois' new relationship and catching a garter and a flower bouquet wasn't going to change his mind about telling Lois his secret before going public with their romance.

Jimmy grinned and nodded, motioning for the blonde billionaire to follow him back to the party . . . maybe being in the festive lighting surrounded by people and good music would lift Oliver's mood.

~*~

Chloe's P.O.V.

When Jimmy had come back to her with Oliver in tow and had received his thumbs up from him herself, she made her way to the D.J. for the microphone.

"Okay, all you single ladies out there," Chloe crowed into the microphone, "Usually we cut the cake first, but I'm dying to throw my bouquet . . . so get out on the dance floor so I can have my fun!" She demanded, giggling as all the single women gathered on the dance floor. She watched a secret exchange between Lois and Clark, Clark nodding ever so slightly and jerking his head just as slightly toward the dance floor. He was telling her to act the part, leaving Chloe disappointed . . . she'd hoped that Lois wouldn't gather with the others, proving to everyone that she had someone, and everyone would just make the logical leap that it was Clark who was her someone . . . but, oh well, if Lois caught her bouquet it would be fun to watch the different shades of pink Clark's face would turn at the prospect of his new girlfriend being the next in line for marriage.

Chloe climbed up the steps to the first landing that led to the Loft, studying the crowd very seriously, memorizing where Lois was standing and hoping she could launch the flowers in the correct direction. It was true that Chloe's passion had always lain with journalism, until recently anyway, but her love of finding and exposing the truth only composed about 90% of her journalistic ambitions growing up . . . the other 10% being that she threw like a girl and her aim was atrocious, and since sports were out, that left her perfectly content to hone her poisoned pen. For once she hoped her aim was true. She turned around and flung the bouquet as hard as she could over her shoulder in the direction she hoped would find Lois.

A burst of laughter escaped the crowd and Chloe turned around to see who had caught her flower missile with excitement. Upon seeing who had caught it, she couldn't help but laugh herself. Standing in the middle of the crowd stood a very embarrassed Lucy Lane, who was blushing and looking apologetically at Pete who was also blushing.

~*~

Jimmy's P.O.V.

Jimmy now had the microphone in his hand and was encouraging all the single men in the room to crowd around the chair Chloe was sitting on in the middle of the dance floor. He passed the microphone off to the D.J. and prepared for what he was sure would be one of the highlights of this day. He knelt down in front of Chloe, who smiled at him encouragingly, and slowly coaxed the layers of her wedding dress up her leg until her blue garter was revealed on her sexy thigh in a sensual manner. He dove at it with his teeth, clamping them around the flimsy lace and ribbon, and tearing it away with one quick tug, smiling triumphantly with it still between his teeth. He was rewarded with whoops and yells from the crowd of guests. He took the strip of fabric between his fingers on both hands and shot it into the crowd . . . A.C., who was standing next to Clark, caught it, and there were more cheers.

~*~

Clark's P.O.V.

Chloe and Jimmy were about to cut the cake when his sensitive ears picked up on a low rumbling and he saw the tangerine colored punch trembling in its punch bowl as the rumbling made more distinct, separate sounds. Lois was close by him and they stared at the vibrating liquid together in confusion, and they were not the only ones who had noticed the thunderous noise now.

"What was that?" Chloe frowned looking up.

An awful howling noise had started to mingle with what sounded like monstrous footsteps, causing everyone to stop their clapping and look toward the origin of the terrifying sounds. As the noise grew louder the lights began flickering on and off inside the barn and people were starting to panic. Finally the lights were cut completely, leaving the group of wedding revelers in darkness. Suddenly the roof of the barn caved in in a mass of macerated wood, crushing a table set with wine and the remnants of partygoers' odds and ends. Out of the wreckage a massive figure pushed itself up from the ground, shedding the crumbled remains of the wood of the barn roof. Whatever the creature was, it was tall, gray, and had bony protrusions and spikes covering the entirety of its body with glowing red eyes. It was the most bizarre thing that Clark had ever seen, as well as the most violent . . . once it had gained its footing it started ripping everything and everyone to shreds.

~*~

Oliver's P.O.V.

Oliver pressed a button inside his suit pocket, enabling the nearly invisible ear pieces the members of The Justice League had planted in their ears, "We weren't expecting this," he spoke out loud, his tone commanding, "But you still know what to do . . . Let me get a shot at this thing with one of my arrows first, then do your thing."

Ollie raced to the spot in the barn where he'd hidden his bow and arrows before the wedding, pulling them out and choosing an arrow that was designed specifically to penetrate thick walls and come apart upon impact, leaving the main part of the arrowhead in the middle while five razor sharp spokes detached from it and shot forward for a total of six dastardly wounds to do the maximum amount of damage possible. He held the bow steadily in his hands as he aimed carefully at the one spot on the creature's forehead that wasn't covered in spikes and let the arrow fly toward its target. The arrow's trajectory rang true, hitting the beast squarely in the middle of its forehead but the metal projectile merely glanced off the creature's skin and it focused its attention on Oliver.

With the blink of an eye, the beast super-sped to the blonde billionaire's place fifty feet away, grabbing him by the neck and lifting him off the ground, the bony protrusions on its fingers cutting into Oliver's skin. The beast tightened his grip on Oliver's throat, crushing it slightly before circling like a discus athlete and tossing Oliver through the air like a rag doll, sending him flying through a barn wall. He flew a good hundred feet after he crashed through the wooden wall and landed on the windshield of one of the wedding guests' cars with a sickening crunch of glass and bone, and the loud squealing of the car's alarm.

~*~

Bart's P.O.V.

Bart watched in horror as Oliver was thrown through a barn wall to God knows where. He'd done as instructed and waited for his leader to shoot his arrow . . . now was the time for him to try his hand at the creature that moved just like him and Clark and Kara. He sped, lightning fast, at the creature, running around and around it in circles hoping to confuse it and make it dizzy before darting his hand out to grab a piece of scrap metal from the ruins around him. He attempted to thrust the sharp end of the metal rod up through the beast's stomach and out through its shoulder, but the metal bowed as it made contact with the creature's body. The force of impact and lack of follow through caused the metal to slide violently in Bart's hand, slitting it open with enough force to cut through his metacarpal bones and halfway through his tendons, nearly taking his hand off. The sudden pain caused Bart to stop abruptly as he tossed the bloody rod aside and yelled out in agony.

His plan had been working up until his attempt to stab the beast but he was standing still now, a clear target in the beast's sights. It whirled around, backhanding him in the stomach with its entire arm, all the bony protrusions and spikes imbedding themselves into Impulse's flesh. The Justice Leaguer went flying through the air just like his leader had, but he didn't fly nearly as far, his back colliding with the tractor Clark always had trouble fixing since his father had died, leaving a dent in the metal exterior and knocking Bart unconscious.

~*~

Victor's P.O.V.

Victor tucked Vanessa in a presumably safe corner after dragging her away from collecting the fallen videographer's camera . . . he knew she was a slave to her art, but her insistence on getting this bloodbath on film was plain silly.

"Stay here," he growled, staring her down, "Promise me."

She was clearly frightened and nodded like she was a bobble-head doll, "I promise," she breathed, terrified. It didn't stop her from using the camera to record as much of what was going on as possible. It was the only thing she could think to do to try to alleviate some of her fear. She refused to be evacuated if Victor was staying . . . she couldn't just leave him.

Victor didn't give the beast a chance to recover from Bart's failed attack. He rushed at it and actually got in a few blows that left his arms searing with pain. The only reason he'd managed to get those few blows in was because the beast had still been distracted by Impulse. The next punch Victor tried to throw, the beast caught in mid-air, crushing his bionically reinforced bones in its hand. Crying out in pain, Victor clutched his ruined hand to his abdomen, but he wasn't ready to give up yet. He whipped around to the backside of the beast, using his enhanced vision to quickly search for a weak spot. Surprisingly he found one, not far off from where Bart had tried to impale the creature. It was the spot a Faora-possessed Lois had run Davis' body through with the metal spike from the hospital bed. Victor landed a solid punch to the spot, eliciting a furious howl from the beast, not sure if he'd actually hurt it of if he'd just annoyed the hell out of it. He landed another solid punch to the spot before deciding to follow Bart's path by grabbing a piece of sharp metal and aiming for the weak spot he'd found. The beast was too quick, however, and Victor never had a chance to do what he'd intended. It punched him squarely in the face, his right cheek to be specific, the bony protrusions lacerating his skin and crunching the metal of his cheekbone. Momentarily stunned, Victor wasn't prepared for the creature's onslaught and it picked him up with both hands, raising him over its head and slamming him down on top of the particularly nasty spike that jutted out of the top of its head. The spike cleanly skewered Victor in the side, causing him to leak blood and battery fluid. He gasped in pain and shock, feeling a few of his bionic ribs buckle, piercing his lung and God knows what other actual organs he still had in his body. The beast raised him up again and threw him up, up, up until he crashed through the roof of the barn. He must have gone skyward at least one hundred fifty feet before he came crashing down to Earth, where he landed on the soft grass outside the barn, also knocked unconscious.

~*~

A.C.'s P.O.V.

The creature had taken out Oliver, Bart and Victor and A.C. screeched in rage, trying desperately to figure out what he should do. He was strong, but Victor was strong too and he'd failed . . . all his useful powers involved water and he was on dry land. He thought as quickly as he could and remembered the caterers using giant coolers of ice to keep the colossal inventory of champagne chilled for the reception festivities. He ran as fast as he could toward the coolers . . . four of them, 116 quarts each, filled with melting ice. He could work with this . . . he had to . . . it was his only option and he refused to stand by and watch his friends get injured. He jerked the lids of the coolers open, sticking one arm in one cooler and another arm in the next closest one, absorbing all the water and ice into his system. He repeated the ritual with the other two coolers and turned to face the beast, which was busy wreaking more havoc on the wedding guests.

"Hey Mother-Fugly!" A.C. called out dangerously, "You with the spikes and shit for brains, I'm talking to you!"

The monster seemed to understand A.C.'s words because it stopped for a second and turned toward him. Drawing all his strength along with all the water he'd absorbed from the coolers he shot his arms out, holding his palms the way he would if he were shooting a ball of energy at an enemy underwater. He didn't know if it would work but he had to try and, luckily enough, it did . . . an enormous ball of energy began to glow within his outstretched palms and he concentrated on blasting it toward the creature with the maximum amount of power he could muster. The ball of energy zipped toward it, knocking him backward forcefully through the closed back entrance of the barn.

A.C. sighed in relief, noting that his skin was all scaly now and he felt rather weak, but his relief was short-lived. The creature shot back into the barn faster than a speeding bullet, only mildly fazed from the impact of A.C.'s wrecking ball of energy. The beast grabbed him by the shirt of his tuxedo and slammed him up against one of the barn walls that was still intact, cracking but not breaking the wood. A.C. was in no condition to fight back as weakened as he already was and the creature sensed this. Without warning it body checked him full on, all the spikes and bony protrusions slicing their way through the aquatic Justice Leaguer's body. The beast released him and let him slide down to the floor as blood began to pool around him from his various injuries. Vaguely, as if he were actually under water he heard an enraged female scream in anguish and pure hate, but his eyes drifted closed and everything went black.

~*~

Kara's P.O.V.

Kara had not been standing idly by while The Justice League endeavored to battle the creature that had crashed Chloe and Jimmy's wedding . . . she had been helping to evacuate as many people from harm's way as she could with the help of John Jones, trusting that Kal-El would soon join in their efforts to thwart the beast she presumed was Doomsday. When she came back into the barn for her next go round of evacuees she noticed that three of the five members of The Justice League were no where to be seen so she searched the beast out, only to see it body check A.C., who was looking scaly and weak already, piercing his very human flesh and letting him fall to the floor before turning back to what seemed to be its mission.

All Kara saw was red as the blood pooled darkly around A.C.'s body and she shrieked in pure hatred and torment as her super-hearing picked up his rasping breaths. She shot toward A.C., lifting him easily and zooming off into the air toward the Smallville Medical Center. She would get back to the beast soon enough, knowing that A.C. wouldn't last if she waited to bring him to the hospital after she challenged the creature.

"Help!" She called out in distress as she arrived at the emergency entrance to the small town hospital. An emergency team gathered at her scream and she set A.C. gently on the stretcher they had brought with them, "He needs water," she told them urgently, "Get him in one of those ice tubs or something and do it fast or he'll die!"

Before any of the doctors and nurses could ask any questions Kara was gone, headed straight back toward the barn to deal with the beast that had hurt the man she was crazy for. She was only gone for a second . . . the creature hadn't made hardly any progress since she'd left, and now it would have to deal with her.

"Nobody messes with my boyfriend!" she shrieked fiercely, stepping in the creature's path, effectively blocking its advancement.

Kara launched herself at it, tackling the bony, spiky creature with such force they burst through another barn wall, skidding in the dirt and knocking wedding guests' cars out of the way in the process, sending each vehicle flying through the air at funny angles. They wrestled with each other for a moment, dueling for dominance. She was out of practice having spent so much time in Kandor and the beast was stronger than she was. It flipped her over, straddling her and began to pummel her face and upper body, blood flying this way and that as it knocked her senseless.

A picture of A.C.'s bleeding body suddenly appeared in her head, giving her a rush of adrenaline and that rush finally gave her a chance to get out from underneath the monster. She tackled it again but it was ready for her, pinning her easily. Seeing that she wasn't going to win on the ground, the same rush of adrenaline helped her fight it off again and she raised herself in the air, kicking it in its spiny face. The creature flipped over and over sideways in the air like they were in some sort of crazy martial arts movie, landing on one of the cars they'd overturned during their ground fight, completely totaling the vehicle. It wasn't fazed . . . it jumped and caught her by the legs, the bony protrusions piercing her skin as it jerked her down. Positioning her like she was a baby it was cradling, it brought its knee up while smashing her body down with its arms. A nauseating crackle sounded as her spine snapped in two. The beast tossed her body away from it like it was throwing away a piece of garbage, and it super-sped back into the barn.

~*~

Dinah's P.O.V.

Dinah stood frozen in shock . . . she was the only one left and this beast had taken out all the other members of The Justice League in seconds. She'd been in some heavy situations before, but none as grisly as this one and for a little while she didn't know what to do with herself. She didn't feel like the brave super hero who helped save the world on a regular basis at the moment . . . she felt like a normal, terrified human being, grieving for the plights of her fellow super friends . . . that did the trick. As she thought of what this _thing_ had done to all her friends she became viciously livid and she unfroze, loosing a subsonic scream that all the glassware from the wedding.

The creature howled in agony, clutching at its head where its ears must have been and dropped to the floor, writhing. Dinah had powerful lungs that she could fill with an enormous amount of air but all too soon she ran out, and her subsonic scream died in her throat. Just as she was inhaling another enormous breath the beast recovered and super-sped toward her before she could scream again, binding its arms around her chest and squeezing, laughing at the sound of breaking bones. She felt sharp stabbing pains and suddenly she couldn't breathe, she couldn't inhale, and she couldn't cry out in misery at the horrible pain . . . all she could do was rasp in rattling breaths that brought tears to her eyes. It didn't take long for her to pass out from the agony and lack of oxygen.

~*~

Clark's P.O.V.

Everything happened so fast he could barely comprehend what was going on, only that The Justice League had fallen and fallen fast. All he could think about was Lois . . . he had to keep Lois safe, that was all that was important . . . keeping the woman he loved safe . . . he hid her behind his body in an effort to protect her as the beast, whom he presumed was Doomsday, approached the two of them. Dinah's scream had left him weak and bleeding from the ears, and he'd done his share of writhing on the ground when she'd let her subsonic scream loose, but she had fallen just like all the other members of The Justice League and he'd managed to get himself back on his feet. _Protect Lois, just protect Lois . . . she's all that matters now, protect her, protect the woman you love_, he repeated over and over again as the creature continued on his path towards them.

Clark set himself up for the confrontation, pulling his arm back as far as it would go and springing it forward as hard as he could manage to punch the unsightly creature in the face. The beast seemed to have recovered faster and better than he had though and it caught his fist in mid-air, Clark just managing to push Lois out of the way before Doomsday twirled around and flung him extra hard toward the Loft. He crashed through the railing and the wood that made up a good portion of the floor, skidding to a stop as he collided with his desk, which rebounded off the corner of the wall, and heading straight toward Lana on the couch, crushing her beneath it. Clark tried to get up but the piece of kryptonite Chloe had pulled out of one of the desk drawers earlier had escaped the confines of its lead container, successfully keeping him down and out of the battle.

~*~

Jimmy's P.O.V.

The beast that had crashed his and Chloe's wedding was heading straight toward them and he instinctively pushed Chloe behind him in an effort to protect her, much like Clark had done with Lois, thinking the exact same thing, _Protect Chloe, just protect Chloe . . . she's all that matters now, protect her, protect the woman you love_. These thoughts ran through his head over and over just like Clark. The floor shook with each slow step the creature took in their direction, and it was clear now that it was definitely on a mission and it was also clear that this mission somehow involved him and his wife. He stepped forward, taking a wooden post in his hands in preparation to defend the woman he loved, meeting the beast half-way and swinging at him in a deliberate manner, though he didn't have a particular spot in mind to aim for. It caught the wooden post in its hand before it got even half way to its mark, pulverizing the wood in its grasp and flinging a wayward arm in Jimmy's direction, the spikes across the back of its monstrous hand ripping mercilessly into the groom's flesh. It sent him flying backward, unconscious, and he landed at Chloe's feet, blood seeping out from his wounds.

~*~

Chloe's P.O.V.

Chloe panicked when she saw Jimmy grab the post and bravely stride toward the beast to protect her, but she knew before he'd armed himself that her new husband was no match for the creature.

"Jimmy don't!" She cried out as he took a swing at the monster with flaming red eyes, watching as it used the back of its hand to tear the man she loved to shreds and sending him flying backward so that he landed at her feet, bright red blood ruining his handsome suit, "No!"

She rushed to his side and took his upper half in her arms, "Jimmy!" she screamed, tears pouring down her cheeks, "Jimmy please hold on!

"Hold on Jimmy," Chloe cradled him in her lap, stroking his face as the tears continued to flow, begging, ". . . please don't leave me!"

The thunderous beat of the monster's footsteps continued to sound as it continued to make its way toward the newlyweds. Chloe tore her gaze away from her husband and looked to see what was coming . . . in the darkness it had been hard to discern its features clearly. The only thing she knew for sure about the monster was that it had glowing neon red eyes. It approached her at a normal pace and she looked up at it, terrified, as it loomed above her from her place on the floor. It was breathing hard and it pressed its face close to hers, she was so petrified of this _thing_ that she thought she might pass out . . . it would be a better place than this . . . any place would be a better place with the man she loved bleeding to death in this one . . . she wanted the darkness to take her away from all the devastation . . . she couldn't lose Jimmy, she loved him too much, she couldn't exist in a world without him, she didn't know how. The devastation led to anger and for a moment she glared up at the beast in defiance for trying to take away the one thing in the world she couldn't live without, the one thing she loved above all else, but its countenance was so frightening that the glare didn't last very long, especially when it spoke.

"Chloe," it said, its voice deep, yet somehow human and vaguely familiar to her, moving the hand that had maimed her true love to caress her face.

She let out an Earth-shattering scream as it gathered her up in its arms and she was so immobilized by fear that she didn't fight as it whisked her away.

~*~

John Jones' P.O.V.

John Jones had done the only thing he knew he could do to help in his weakened state – assist Kal-El's cousin Kara in evacuating as many of the wedding guests as he could before they got ripped to shreds by the creature he assumed was Doomsday. He hated not being a part of the action, if he'd still had his powers all he would have had to do is get a decent hold on the creature and send it to The Phantom Zone, but he was more human than Martian now and until Kal-El flew him to his home planet for restoration, he was feeble. He hadn't noticed that Kara had gone missing at first, they were working opposite sides of the barn to get the maximum amount of people out of harm's way in the least amount of time, but he heard a scream above all the others and with her enhanced lungs and vocal chords, he knew the piteous scream had come from her. As he rushed a bloody couple out of the barn he saw something shoot through the air and assumed that it had been Kal-El's cousin, but he had no idea why she would choose to leave at such a critical stage in the battle against Doomsday. From what he knew of her she was no coward so it simply didn't make sense for her to flee, but just as soon as she had disappeared, she was back and from her posture and the fury that twisted her lovely features, he presumed that Doomsday had hurt someone she cared for deeply, and she was back for revenge.

He saw her super-speed into the barn and screech, "Nobody messes with my boyfriend!"

He watched the gruesome battle that ensued between the two Kryptonians, wondering where the hell Kal-El was and why he wasn't helping his cousin fight Doomsday. His jaw dropped in shock as he saw the beast pull Kara out of the sky and snap her spine, the sound of the breaking bones so audible he could hear it from across the field. It tossed her limp body aside like it was trash and super-sped back into the barn. John vaguely heard a low scream, one that a normal human never would have heard, but he wasn't a human and at that particular moment he was glad his powers were gone, otherwise he would have been writhing on the ground as he suspected the beast was doing now. The only downside to this approach at keeping Doomsday at bay was that it would disable Kal-El as well, which wasn't the smartest strategy, but at this point what was smart and what would work were one in the same.

Since he knew that Doomsday was occupied at the moment, he took off at a run toward Kara's body. Jor-El had entrusted him to keep his family safe, and though he'd only thought that that chore would include his son and his son alone, John knew he'd want him to look after Kara as well. Jor-El had been very fond of his niece, he'd be happy that she'd survived and was attempting to follow in the same path he'd wanted for his son. When he reached her, his heart sank. Her face and upper body were a mangled mess, blood was everywhere and her dress was torn to shreds. Her body was positioned in at a funny angle, one that could only confirm that her spine was, in fact, in pieces. A faint blue hue had started to show through the red stain of her lips and he knelt beside her, feeling her neck for a pulse . . . there was none. She was dead and John had no idea whether or not exposure to the yellow sun would heal her, she was so badly broken. Tears sprang to his eyes as he gathered her destroyed form in his arms, listening intently for sounds that indicated Doomsday was still wreaking havoc, but the night was silent . . . the beast was gone.

John carried Kara's body back to the barn as the wailing of sirens announced the arrival of fire trucks and ambulances. He set her gently down on a bale of hay and concentrated his hearing again, picking up labored breathing that matched Kal-El's specific pattern. Even though he was powerless, sometimes he could focus his senses enough to be considered a metahuman, like the ones on The Justice League; plus, he had been so in tune with Kal-El for such a long time that he could pick up the sound of his breathing powers or no. The noise was coming from the Loft, so John hurried up the stairs and finally got his answer as to why Kal-El had not been outside helping his cousin battle Doomsday . . . a glowing piece of green kryptonite was on the floor barely three feet away from him, and he was immensely weak from the exposure. John grabbed the rock off the floor and lobbed it as far away from the heir to the House of El as he could. The Kryptonian prince immediately started to look better.

~*~

Clark's P.O.V.

Even in his kryptonite induced weakness, Clark had been ecstatic and relieved when John Jones appeared in the Loft and got rid of the kryptonite. Only seconds after John's arrival, Pete's plus one, Vanessa, hurried up the stairs, shaking visibly.

"It's too late," she sobbed, ". . . that thing took Chloe."

Clark couldn't believe his ears . . . he was still on the floor, the weak, sick feeling he always got from prolonged exposure to green kryptonite not entirely gone yet. John stuck out his hand to help him up and he noticed a jagged half of his desk propped precariously on the couch and he remembered that that was the exact place where Lana had been sitting. Not caring if Vanessa saw him use his super-human strength, he ripped the desk away from the couch and found Lana unconscious and bleeding but he couldn't tell from where.

That was when he thought of Lois . . . he had to make sure she had gotten out okay. He super-sped outside and searched the crowd for the woman he loved, not finding a trace of her . . . he focused his hearing, trying to find the familiar sound of her heart beat. He blew out a relieved breath when he found it, realizing that it was coming from inside the barn. He super-sped back inside and the sight before him made him wish he were dead.

Lois was standing exactly where she had been when he'd faced Doomsday, after he'd pushed her out of the way. She wasn't standing so much as hanging from the two sharp, thick shards of wood protruding from the right side of her chest. One shard had impaled her just underneath her collar bone, while the other had pierced her abdomen. Her breath was coming in short, hollow gasps, and Clark thanked whatever Gods there were that she was still alive as he vowed to get vengeance on Doomsday, but as he replayed the scene in his head, he realized something . . . Doomsday was on a mission and when Clark had attacked the monster it wasn't angled toward Lois, it was angled more towards Jimmy and Chloe, which made sense now since it had kidnapped her, a full forty-five degrees to the left of Lois and that meant only one thing . . . Doomsday hadn't been the one to hurt Lois . . . it had been _him_. He'd been so intent on keeping her safe he hadn't looked where he'd pushed her . . . this was his fault. He leaned over and vomited for a good minute before he turned his attention back to the woman he loved. Gently, he pulled her away from the jagged pieces of wood and cradled her in his arms.

~*~

Lois' P.O.V.

Lois had experienced high levels of pain before . . . she'd been stabbed and knocked around so much that she had a high tolerance for the feeling, and now as she lay cradled in her love's lap, she didn't feel a thing.

She looked up at Clark and a lazy smile decorated her lips, "Smallville . . . my Smallville."

"Lois!" Clark's eyes were wide and his tears were dripping freely onto her face, cooling it down, "You have to fight for me okay? You have to fight!"

Her eyelids were so heavy, all she wanted to do was go to sleep and she was so comfortable in Clark's arms . . . it would be so easy just to close her eyes and drift away.

"Lois," Clark cried out desperately, "Lois no! You have to stay awake! You have to stay with me! Open your eyes, honey . . . you've got to keep your eyes open! Don't leave me!"

Lois smiled at him again, a tired smile, "I'll never leave you, Smallville . . . I'll always be in your heart . . . I . . . I love you."

She couldn't resist it now, no matter how hard she tried, no matter how hard she fought . . . it was time. She had to sleep now . . . she had to succumb to the darkness . . . she didn't want to, but she wasn't being given a choice . . . and it felt nice . . . nice to drift off into nothingness . . . it was just time . . . so she stopped fighting and let it take her away.


	11. Chapter 11

Hey All! Thanks for continuing to read the story even though I haven't updated in forever. I haven't given up on this story, I've just had so much going on and I haven't been able to write. Don't give up on me and don't give up on the story! I love you all!


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I own neither Smallville nor Superman nor Batman. They belong to people and companies far greater than I. The characters are just really fun to play with when borrowed. I stole the character Vanessa Abrams from Gossip Girl who belongs to The CW, but she is a couple years older in this fic because it is just more appropriate.

SPOILER ALERT: This story is loosely based on "Bride." If you haven't seen this episode yet, I wouldn't read this until you have, unless you don't care. There are some quotes from the episode "Prey," allusions to the episode "Bloodline," and a lot of this chapter takes place during the episode "Legion."

Rating: This chapter is rated T, though, as promised, eventually it will become M

**Author's Note: I just thought I should mention to everyone that Ollie has already taken over LuthorCorp even though this didn't happen until later on in the show's timeline. Thanks for all the wonderful feedback and encouragement! Especially to Superlc529 – you ROCK!!!

The Moment He Knew

Chapter 11 – Aftermath

Clark's P.O.V.

When Lois lost consciousness, Clark no longer cared who knew his secret . . . people could lock him in a cage and experiment on him for the rest of his life if that was what it took to keep her alive. Gently, he shifted her so he was holding her like a baby and without so much as a second thought; he rippled through the air toward the Smallville Medical Center, taking flightfor the very first time. Even though panic and desperation were his primary emotions at the moment, his mouth twisted into an ugly smile at the irony of it. He had wanted to tell Lois his secret and hold her in his arms just like this as he flew for the first time . . . surely this was some sort of cruel joke. Her body was completely limp as he landed rather harshly at the emergency entrance to the small town hospital.

"Somebody help me!" He roared, his voice so fierce and loud because of his super-powered lungs that everyone stopped and stared at him for a moment, dumb-struck, before kicking it into high gear. An emergency team rushed up to him just like the one that had responded to Kara's plea for A.C., and Clark gently placed his beloved on the stretcher, already seeing the white of the hospital linens staining red with her blood.

"We need a crash cart over here! And someone better get me a whole lot of type O! If we don't hurry, it won't matter if we get her heart started again, she'll have nothing left to pump!" One of the female doctors called out urgently, and a second later they were ripping open Lois' bridesmaid dress and cutting through her bra, exposing her breasts. Clark looked away squeamishly . . . this was not how he'd imagined seeing her nude upper body for the first time since their status had gone from friends to significant others. "Push 1 milligram of epinephrine!"

Clark watched on in silence, eyes wide as a nurse impaled Lois in the heart with a gigantic needle filled with the clear fluid as the doctor continued to prepare Lois for the crash cart paddles.

"Charge to 300!" The woman doctor ordered, rubbing the paddles together before placing them on Lois' chest and giving the nurse the go-ahead. Lois' body freakishly arched off the stretcher, but there was still no response, "Charge again!"

After three tries at 300 joules with no response, the doctor kicked up the voltage to 350, hearing grumbles from the nurses about how the patient . . . Lois . . . was already gone. She glared at them evilly, "I'm not letting this one die! . . . She has fight left in her, I can feel it so do your goddamn job and prep the paddles!"

Clark really liked this woman doctor who refused to give up on his Lois. Two more tries at 350 joules and a faint heartbeat showed up on the monitor, Clark could hear the familiar lub-dub noise of the opening and closing of valves from her atriums to her ventricles. He breathed a sigh of relief even though he knew she wasn't out of the woods yet.

"Get her to an OR and prep her for surgery!" The lady doctor commanded, no room in her voice for compassion to her co-workers when she knew they were expecting a major onslaught of maimed and injured people shortly.

As they wheeled Lois' gurney toward an OR, Clark fell into stride beside it, "I'm sorry, Lo. I wish I could stay here with you but other people are hurt and they need help . . . there's nothing more I can do for you now. You have to fight Lois because I love you and I can't lose you. I promise I'll be back as soon as I can to be with you." His voice was breaking with raw emotion.

~*~

The Kent Barn

His home was pure chaos. There were people covered in blood everywhere he looked, but he trusted that they would be okay in the hands of the paramedics and EMTs. He was looking for specific people . . . The members of the Justice League, Kara, Jimmy, Lana, Pete, Lucy, John Jones and his and Chloe's mothers. He found Pete, Lucy and Chloe's mother, Moira, at the back of an ambulance first. Pete's right arm was broken in three places according to his assessment with his X-ray vision, which meant he would need to pay a visit to the hospital for a cast and he had a cut or two on his face but nothing major. Lucy's left wrist was broken, her elbow sprained, and a long gash on her right thigh was being stitched up by an EMT, but it was still considered superficial. Moira Sullivan had survived the ordeal with only a few cuts and scrapes thanks to John Jones' and Kara's efforts to evacuate people from harm's way.

"Where are my sister and cousin?" Lucy demanded, her eyes frantic.

"We can't find them anywhere," Moira voiced, her tone as frantic as her niece's eyes.

"Lois is already at the hospital," Clark answered, distracted but relieved he could cross three people off his list . . . they would heal. With what Doomsday had done to everyone else . . . he wasn't sure some of them could come back from it.

"The hospital?" Lucy queried, her voice three octaves higher than when she had spoken before. "How did she get there and what's wrong with her?"

"I took her there myself and I don't know exactly," Clark told her the truth, he really didn't know what kind of damage those wooden spikes had done to the woman he loved. "She's in surgery now."

"Surgery?" Moira echoed, her voice notably higher as well.

"Yes, surgery," Clark repeated, ready to continue his search for the people he loved and turning to do so.

"You never answered about Chloe!" Moira refused to let him leave just yet_. _She grabbed his arm. He had been hoping Lois' condition would distract her enough that he wouldn't have to explain that her daughter had been taken by Doomsday.

"The monster took her," Clark admitted boldly, there was no way to sugarcoat the kidnapping.

"Took her?!" Lucy cried, distraught. "Why would it take her? What exactly is _it_?"

"I don't know," Clark replied, annoyed both with the questioning duo and himself for not knowing the answers to their questions. "I will find Chloe but right now I don't have time for this . . . there are other people hurt worse than you are . . . most of my friends might be dead. If you want more information on Lois you're going to have to go to the hospital and ask the doctors and nurses yourselves."

With that he moved out of earshot of the trio and searched the crowd for his mother, thankful to find her relatively unharmed among the crowd of people who had been evacuated. She had a long, deep laceration on her right forearm, but she had ripped part of her dress off and used it as a tourniquet that was tied off at her elbow. He recognized three of their kitchen towels, two discarded on the ground, blood all over them, the third she was currently using to stem the flow of blood from the cut.

"Oh thank God," Martha cried out when she caught sight of him, tears pouring down her cheeks. She rushed forward and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly, "I was so worried, so afraid that that monster hurt you. I couldn't find you . . . I looked everywhere."

"I had to get Lois to the hospital," Clark explained morosely, "She wasn't breathing."

"Oh my God," Martha wailed, a fresh wave of tears descending her cheeks, "Is she going to be alright?"

"I don't know," Clark answered, letting some of his pain over his love's condition leak into his voice. "I was trying to protect her, Mom . . . I didn't pay attention to where I was pushing her to as long as she was away from the beast. She was dead, Mom, and I'm the one that hurt her. They brought her back but she's not out of the woods yet. She could _die_ because of my carelessness. I could lose the woman I love."

"Oh sweetheart, you can't blame yourself," Martha insisted, her cast iron strength, the strength it took to be a superhero's mother, returning to her voice in an attempt to comfort her son, "You were trying to protect her, you can't fault yourself for that . . . I'm sure she'll be fine. Lois is a fighter . . . she'll pull through, I just know it."

"Thanks for saying that, Mom, but it doesn't make me feel any better," Clark gave his mother another hug, "You need to get to the hospital or have one of the EMTs stitch that up," he commanded, checking it with his X-ray vision, ". . . it's nearly to the bone.

"Don't worry about me," Martha chided him, "G_o_! Help others who are in more need of it than I am. We'll talk more later."

Clark nodded and headed for the barn. As he walked through the ruined back entrance an unconscious Jimmy was being rushed out of the now unstable structure on a gurney. Clark focused his hearing and wasn't pleased to find his friend's heartbeat so weak, alarmed to see the beginnings of blood stains on the gray blanket the EMTs who were rushing him to an ambulance had used to cover him up. A few more steps in and another gurney flashed past him, this time with a bloody, unconscious Lana lying on it. He focused his hearing again, pleased to find her heartbeat strong, which meant the bleeding might not be as bad as he'd thought.

Now he had to pick and choose carefully as far as the members of the Justice League were concerned. Since everyone but Oliver was a metahuman of some type, he decided to look for him first since he didn't possess any enhanced strength or healing ability and he was the first one to go down. Clark tried to remember what Doomsday had done with the blond billionaire and the scene played before his eyes in slow motion . . . the arrow glancing off Doomsday's forehead, the blur of its movement from its initial place to Oliver's, it picking Green Arrow up by his throat . . .

Clark concentrated his new abilities as he relived the memory, which was an odd sensation. It was like he could pick and choose his memories, projecting them out of his head so that he was standing objectively in the middle of the past, able to slow down or speed up parts of what he was seeing to better understand what had gone on. Using this powerful new ability, which no doubt came from his exposure to the special forms of kryptonite, he heard a mild crushing of Oliver's trachea and watched as Doomsday whirled around and tossed Ollie through a barn wall. He zoomed in on the beast's hand as it let go of Green Arrow, immediately able to calculate the trajectory that Oliver's body would have headed in after bursting through the wood of the barn wall. He concentrated his hearing again, his eyes becoming a bird's eye view of the section of the farm they had cordoned off for parking, picking up the noise of Oliver's flight and seeing it with his new point of view. The leader of The Justice League had landed on the windshield of a blue _Honda Civic_ approximately one hundred feet away, and, according to Clark's hearing, he'd broken some bones. Now back in the present, without thinking he super-sped to the blue _Honda Civic_ in question.

Oliver was unconscious and bleeding. Clark X-rayed his broken friend and breathed another sigh of relief. Oliver was in bad shape, but not so bad that he wouldn't recover as long as he got to the hospital in a timely manner. His entire right arm was shattered, including his collar bone, and his shoulder blade was not only broken in pieces but was dislocated from the force of impact, his left femur was fractured and his ankle was broken, he had a severe concussion with a nice bleeding bump on the back of his head to match, his trachea was bruised, and he'd broken a couple of ribs, one of which had perforated and deflated his right lung. It was bad but treatable . . . Clark had been expecting a lot worse. Carefully he gathered the broken billionaire in his arms and set out into the sky toward the Smallville Medical Center again, not landing quite so harshly at the emergency entrance his second time around. He called out for another emergency team and left Oliver to be treated before racing back to the farm to try to find the other members of The Justice League. What he was wondering now was, _Where the hell is Kara?_

Clark decided to go after Bart next since he was the second to fall and he'd heard the bones breaking in his over-confident friend's body when it had actually happened. He also remembered, with sickening detail, that Impulse's hand might no longer be attached to his body . . . if it wasn't he'd have to look for it to bring with him to the hospital to be reattached, if it was even salvageable. After the bloody, pulpy mess Doomsday had left in its wake, it would be a miracle if Bart's hand was still attached. He rushed over to the tractor he could never get working again after his father had died and X-rayed the Justice Leaguer who could easily outrun him. He gasped in grief and shock at what he saw . . . he'd been expecting Oliver to be in this sort of shape after his run in with Doomsday but he'd never fathomed that Bart Allen would be the one who might never walk again.

The force with which Doomsday had thrown Bart had been equal to that it'd used to toss Oliver a hundred feet away, only Bart had had an interruption in his flight path, making the impact against the tractor that much more deadly. Several of Impulse's vertebrae were broken or cracked and it was a miracle that none of the broken bones had pierced his spinal cord, at least, not that Clark could see. He had broken ribs like Oliver but more of them and both his shoulder blades were cracked, the force of impact dislocating both of them. He too had a severe concussion with a nice bleeding bump on the back of his head to match, only his skull was fractured where Oliver's had been fine, bruised at most. Luckily, Bart's hand was still attached, but barely and it was leaving a pool of blood on the ground where the Justice Leaguer had landed after making impact with the tractor.

Clark wasn't quite sure how to maneuver the youngest member of The Justice League, afraid to so much as touch him for fear of accidentally moving one of his broken vertebrae and penetrating Bart's spinal cord himself . . . but he had to do something quickly . . . Impulse's heartbeat was very faint and he suspected that all the damage he'd sustained would need multiple surgeries to repair. An idea suddenly hit him, a stroke of brilliance really . . . he used his super breath to freeze Bart enough so that when Clark picked him up none of the broken bones would shift. It was a risky move considering how sluggish the young man's heartbeat truly was, but Clark didn't have any other options. Once Impulse was sufficiently frozen he gathered him in his arms just as he had done with Oliver and took flight toward the Smallville Medical Center for the third time that night. This time he landed softly, yelling for another emergency team to attend to Bart. Once they had him on a stretcher they began to move him away, but Clark stopped them with his hand, using his heat vision to thaw Bart back to an even ninety-eight point six degrees.

"His back is broken but I don't think anything is wrong with his spinal cord and his skull is fractured!" Clark shouted after them as they wheeled him away, when he'd finally let go of the stretcher.

Once again, Clark wondered, _Where the hell is Kara?_ He could really use her help right now and she was no where to be seen. He didn't know that John Jones had hidden her dead body after he'd taken off for the hospital with Lois. John hadn't done it to be cruel, but he knew how upset Kal-El would be if he knew his cousin was quite possibly truly dead and Kal-El had to focus on his mission to help people, especially those who had risked their lives to try and stop Doomsday.

When Clark returned home this time he scoured the barn for any sign of A.C., but there was none . . . he was just _gone_ . . . which didn't make any sense. He knew A.C. and he knew that A.C. would never leave his friends in the midst of battle even if he was rather powerless on land. He'd have to wonder on it later though, because there were still two members of The Justice League who were badly injured that needed his help and he knew where they were.

Clark chose to deal with Dinah next because he honestly didn't know what to do for Victor, his being half-man, half-machine and all. He X-rayed her for what damage had been done. The only parts of her that had been injured were her rib cage and lungs. The super-squeeze Doomsday had enveloped her in had broken all of her ribs, piercing both her lungs so that they looked like Swiss cheese. Surprisingly enough, she was still taking slow, deep, and raspy, rattling breaths but if he didn't get her to the hospital soon she was going to die from the lack of oxygen to her body. Just as he'd done with everyone else, he gathered her carefully in his arms and blasted off toward the Smallville Medical Center, flying like a pro now on his fourth trip to the hospital.

"Her ribs are broken into pieces that have punctured her lungs," Clark informed the emergency team that responded to his beckoning, "She needs to be intubated or she'll die quickly."

He knew about intubation from watching _House_, and, embarrassingly enough, from watching _Grey's Anatomy_ with Lois every week. His heart wrenched wretchedly at the thought of the woman he loved and he wanted to ask how she was doing but he couldn't yet . . . there was still work to be done.

Clark flew back to the barn, landing softly on the lush grass before Victor Stone's crushed body. He reached around to the back of Victor's head, where his foramen magnum was located, and felt around for a few seconds before he found what he was looking for . . . Victor's reset button. He pressed the tiny nub that could easily be passed off as an odd, slightly bony protrusion on the back of his skull. Immediately, Victor's eyes shot open and Clark could see through them that his system was rebooting. When the reboot had successfully completed, Victor's eyes popped wide and he started screeching in agony, tears streaming from his eyes as he thrashed violently on the ground in his pain. Clark grabbed a firm hold on Victor's shoulders, steadying him, even though the young man was still screaming in agony.

"_Victor_," Clark said very loudly, as though he were scolding a small child, "Victor, I need you to focus . . . I know it hurts, but I need your help. I've already done what I can for the others, but I don't know how to help you . . . please help me help you."

"SynTechnics," Victor gasped, trying very hard not to move.

"SynTechnics? I thought that was a LuthorCorp facility," Clark thought aloud, confused.

"When Oliver officially merged Queen Industries with LuthorCorp he acquired the research facility," Victor explained, huffing, ". . . it's where I go to get all my upgrades and if I malfunction . . . the others . . . Vanessa . . . what happened to them?"

"Don't worry about that right now," Clark advised, carefully pulling Cyborg into his arms and launching himself into the air, speeding off toward Metropolis and SynTechnics faster than a speeding bullet.

When the two arrived at the old lab, Clark didn't bother waiting for Victor's retinal scan to open the doors, he simply ripped them off their hinges. He had neither the time nor the patience for what seemed to be rudimentary security measures at the moment. One . . . two . . . three doors were unhinged before any security personnel approached the battering ram that was Clark Kent. When they saw his face, and, even more importantly, that he held Victor Stone in his arms, a very broken Victor Stone, they tried to follow on his heels as Clark made his way to the primary procedure room. He knew where to go because he was using a mixture of his X-ray vision and his new bird's eye view ability to navigate the experimental laboratory. He burst through the last door. He didn't see a proper bed, so with one sweep of his long arm, he sent countless metal instruments flying through the air off a person-length metal table. Clark gently placed Victor on top of it. The security team had taken cover from all the airborne metal, as did the engineering crew and limited medical staff that already occupied the room.

"Help him," Clark demanded, stabbing his finger in Victor's direction, his patience wearing thin. The engineering crew and medical staff immediately gathered around the cyborg at Clark's dominant bark of a command. He quickly scanned the building for anything that might indicate any outgoing information, information that was not remaining within the confines of Queen Industries. He was suspicious because the last time he'd heard the lab's name it had belonged to Lex, and Clark still had to be vigilant where the bald billionaire was concerned, considering Oliver's intel that indicated there was a chance that his ex-friend might still be alive. Having satisfactorily scanned the whole of the building and finding nothing of import, he turned back toward the metal table.

Victor was lying eerily still and considering how many people he'd seen that way so far in the last half an hour, this did not please him, "I told you to help him, not kill him!"

He saw his reflection in one of the doctor's glasses and understood why the man was quailing before him . . . his face was twisted into a fierce snarl that he was very certain had never graced his chiseled features before . . . he looked downright frightening.

"In order to help him we have to shut him down," the doctor explained, his voice shaking. "Usually we get a call from Mr. Queen before we get a visit from Mr. Stone . . . do you know why we didn't receive notice otherwise we would have been fully prepared for Mr. Stone's visit. You've taken us by surprise and you sent a fair amount of our valuable equipment crashing all over the room."

Clark sneered at the man, something he would have frowned upon if circumstances had been more normal but the fact was, the circumstances were far from it and he was being pulled apart at the seams. He was completely alone . . . totally and completely alone. Everyone important to him had been injured almost to the point of no repair, and his cousin and A.C. were missing, a sign he was reluctant to admit was a horrid one. Neither Kara nor A.C. backed down from challenges, it was a horrid sign indeed.

"Mr. Queen couldn't call you because he's currently incapacitated," Clark informed the man, his voice less a snarl, taking on a more business like quality. "He's injured and probably in surgery as we speak, as is everyone else you may have treated here at one point or another . . . I'm the only one left who's not in a hospital bed."

The doctor pulled a black cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to Clark, "Mr. Queen has someone on call that he would call for situations as dire as this. Just press send and you'll be connected with the right person to help you deal with what's happened."

Clark looked at him strangely, reluctantly palming the phone, glad to see his face was almost back to normal in the reflective polymer lenses of the doctor's glasses. Even though his whole world had been ripped apart in a matter of minutes, he didn't like to be unkind to anyone, especially someone who was laboring to help one of his fallen friends.

Clark unfolded the black cell phone and hit send, just like the doctor had instructed him. It was answered after one ring.

A deep, dour voice sounded, "Who am I speaking to?"

"My name is Clark Kent," Clark responded, "I was given this phone in the event that no one from the Justice League could contact whoever you are . . . The doctor at SynTechnics told me this phone would get me talking to someone who could help."

"What's happened?" The severe voice resonated again, sounding even more dour at Clark's dark insinuation. "I only spoke with Oliver an hour ago."

"I'm not sure how to explain it to you," Clark told him, a little lost at how to explain to a rather inhuman voice that a monster from another planet had ripped the Justice League to shreds and all of their lives hung in the balance, "Who are you? Oliver never mentioned a backup to me."

"My name is Bruce Wayne," the man introduced himself gravely. Grave seemed to be the only emotion his voice came in . . . _correction_, Clark thought to himself, _grave and graver_, but he didn't sound much better at this point and he already knew everything that had happened. "I live in Gotham . . . I help fight crime there much like Oliver moonlighting as the Green Arrow in Star City and Metropolis. I've been an unofficial member of the Justice League for a little while now. I can help you Clark, but I need to know how bad it is."

"All of them are practically on their deathbeds," Clark revealed sullenly, ". . . I presume that they're all in emergency surgery by now. I had to bring Victor Stone to SynTechnics in Metropolis to get him appropriate help, but I should be getting back to Smallville to check up on everyone else. One of them, A.C., is missing. I should try to find him."

"Smallville . . . Metropolis . . . all within a few minutes," the dim voice mused briefly, ". . . you must be the infamous Red-Blue Blur the _Daily Planet_ is so fond of reporting on," Bruce deduced, an air of certainty coloring his correct conclusion.

"How much do you know about me?" Clark demanded, his voice suddenly accusing.

"You're like any member of the Justice League except with a few more powers at your behest than most of the others," Bruce told him confidently, alleviating Clark's unjustified fears that Oliver may have shared his secret with this unfathomably dark man who felt the need to don a costume and save the world just like him and all of his super friends. "I'm on my way . . . you still haven't told me what happened."

"We were ambushed," Clark admitted ruefully, ". . . it was all over in a minute maybe two."

"Was it Lex Luthor?" Bruce demanded, his voice dangerous as the name slipped off his tongue.

"No," Clark responded immediately, "For once I wish things were that simple . . . It's much more complicated than that."

"How complicated could it be?" Bruce demanded derisively.

"Just get here," Clark commanded, losing his patience for the umpteenth time that night. "I'll tell you the how in person . . . it's the only way you'll understand."

"I should be there in about six and a half hours," Bruce answered curtly.

"I wish I could say I look forward to meeting you, but under the circumstances I just can't," Clark admitted woefully as the other man hung up.

Clark flipped the black 'emergencies-only' phone closed and turned to the doctor who had given it to him.

"You'll be able to save him, right? He's not going to die?" Clark asked, a smooth mask hiding his terror at the possibilities those questions opened up.

"It will take hours of work," the doctor explained, comfortingly, "But yes, Mr. Stone will be as good as new, even better in fact than he was before all of this. You have important things to take care of Mr. Kent . . . don't let us keep you from them."

Clark nodded and, with one last look at Victor, headed out the way he'd come in, shooting into the sky and back toward Smallville. He still hadn't found John Jones, A.C. or Kara. He'd noticed the latter two flirting right before Doomsday'd struck and he hoped with all his heart that they had just snuck off someplace quiet for some alone time, as much as he didn't want to think of his cousin like that, and had remained entirely untouched by the massacre that had occurred in the barn. He landed discreetly amongst several overturned cars and wondered for the first time how they had gotten that way, not having paid attention to any of the cars except the one that Ollie had landed on. He rushed at a slightly too fast pace back into the barn, hoping to find some sign of Kara, A.C., and John Jones.

"Kal-El," John called his name out from behind him.

Clark turned immediately toward the sound of the familiar voice and found his friend and comrade covered in blood. A quick X-ray told him that all the blood on John's clothing was not his. Clark breathed a sigh of relief at this and walked briskly toward the Martian Manhunter.

"I'm so glad you're okay," Clark lamented. "I'm so frustrated right now . . . I can't find Kara or A.C. and it just doesn't make any sense. Neither one backs down from a battle but they're nowhere to be seen. I really could have used Kara's help."

"I believe that your friend A.C. is already at the hospital, Kal-El," John told him quietly.

"How do you know?" Clark asked, his voice malice-free.

"I saw your cousin fly off in that direction before coming back to face Doomsday herself," John explained. He was loathing how to reveal to Kal-El how the battle between the two Kryptonians had ended.

"Kara fought Doomsday?" Clark asked, slightly flummoxed that he didn't know this. He'd been so absorbed in keeping Lois safe, fat lot of good that had done, he hadn't noticed everything that had gone on in the barn.

"She was valiant and brave," John started out, moving to the spot he'd hidden Kara's body, "but, in the end, it just wasn't enough."

John gathered her in his arms and laid her back on the bale of hay upon which he'd originally deposited her lifeless form, sadly describing the battle that had ensued between his cousin and Doomsday. Clark took in the pale complexion and the blue lips that were his worst nightmare. Kara was dead.

"I don't know if the yellow sun will be able to heal her, Kal-El," John admitted, the words twisting Clark's features into a mass of grief and horror.

Everyone else had a chance at staying alive albeit a slim one, but a chance all the same . . . but Kara was gone. He focused his hearing, trying to find the familiar beat of his cousin's heart but he heard nothing. Her entire body was a bloody mass of lacerations, even her beautiful face was marred heavily with deep slashes. He X-rayed her broken form just as he'd done with all his other friends, finding her spine snapped in two places, pretty sure the breaks were located on either side of Doomsday's trunk-like thigh, when it'd smashed his cousin down on to it, the bony spikes on it's legs pulverizing the bones and corresponding section of spinal cord where her back had actually collided with the creature's body. Some ribs were broken and one of the jagged pieces had pierced her heart while others perforated her lungs. There was literally no more blood left in her body for her to bleed.

Kara was gone . . . the only blood family he'd ever had was _dead_. Suddenly Clark couldn't breathe . . . he opened his mouth in an attempt to suck in some air but his lungs wouldn't work, not that he really needed oxygen as much as humans did, it was more of a habit and habit was comforting. He put his hands around his throat and dropped to his knees, John Jones immediately came toward him and placed a consoling hand on Kal-El's back as Clark literally choked on his anguish. At the touch of his ally, his lungs started working again and he sucked in an enormous breath, expelling it from his body in an agonized howl and he lost it totally for the first time that day, for the first time ever.

Sobs of grief and horror shook his entire frame and suddenly he was so exhausted he wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. At SynTechnics, when he'd thought he was alone, he hadn't been serious . . . he had been counting on finding Kara and berating her for abandoning him when he'd so needed her help to deal with the aftermath of Doomsday's attack. Now he realized he truly was alone . . . Almost everyone he cared about was dying . . . Lois, Jimmy, Oliver, Lana, the entire Justice League and Chloe being kidnapped by the aforementioned monster was just as good as being near death considering all the damage he'd caused both people and the barn . . . Kara was lying before him already dead and there was nothing he could do to change any of it. Some hero he was.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I own neither Smallville nor Superman nor Batman. They belong to people and companies far greater than I. The characters are just really fun to play with when borrowed. I stole the character Vanessa Abrams from Gossip Girl who belongs to The CW, but she is a couple years older in this fic because it is just more appropriate.

SPOILER ALERT: This story is loosely based on "Bride." If you haven't seen this episode yet, I wouldn't read this until you have, unless you don't care. There are some quotes from the episode "Prey," allusions to the episode "Bloodline," and a lot of this chapter takes place during the episode "Legion."

Rating: This chapter is rated T, though, as promised, eventually it will become M

**Author's Note: I just thought I should mention to everyone that Ollie has already taken over LuthorCorp even though this didn't happen until later on in the show's timeline. Thanks for all the wonderful feedback and encouragement! Especially to Superlc529 – you ROCK!!!

The Moment He Knew

Chapter 12 – Batman, Brainiac, & Doomsday Oh My!

Martha's P.O.V.

Not long after Clark started howling in agony, Martha Kent appeared in the barn having recognized her son's anguished cries. In all the years she'd raised him from a precocious toddler to a grown man she had never seen him fall apart like this . . . Clark had always been a suffer in silence type, brooding over all his problems and issues instead of sharing them with others. It was like trying to pry a solid lead door open with a crowbar to get him to offer up what was really bothering him except for those few instances when it was written all over his face, which for some subjects that was the case . . . like his suffering over Lana for all his teenage and young adult years, but not even Lana could provoke such cries of pure misery from her son's super-powered lungs. She edged closer to him, his large body shaking with sobs over a bale of hay, and as she neared him she partially understood the reason behind his agony, gasping as she glimpsed Kara's torn and broken bloody body. Tears immediately stung in her eyes for the poor girl who had been Clark's only blood relation, the girl she had only talked to a couple of hours ago and had come to love in that short period of time.

Tentatively, she touched him on his shoulder but he didn't notice her feather light caress . . . she knew in her heart that though most of this breakdown had primarily to do with that evening's events, this had been building for years and seeing all of his friends and allies being ripped to shreds, being the cause of Lois' injuries, and now Kara's death had been the breaking point. She made eye contact with John Jones, who still had a consoling hand on Clark's back, and found that all three of them were crying over the beautiful blonde Kryptonian's body. Suddenly finding it indecent to stare at the bloody remains of her son's cousin, she removed her hand from his shoulder and began to examine the wreckage of the wedding splendor. After a minute or two of searching the remains of what was supposed to be marked as one of the happiest days in all of their lives, she found a table cloth that was mostly whole and gathered the fabric in her hands.

She returned to her sobbing son and John Jones, kneeling before Kara's head and reaching out to close her glassy, unseeing blue eyes. This maneuver, however, seemed to snap Clark to attention so quickly it was like he'd been whipped with a kryptonite studded whip. Using his super speed, he moved between his mother and cousin.

"Don't touch her!" His voice was rough from his breakdown but there were no more tears in his eyes as he challenged Martha to try it. The large span of his outstretched arms effectively kept both his mother and John Jones away from Kara.

"Clark," Martha soothed maternally, tears still pouring down her cheeks, "honey . . . she's gone, and she wouldn't want this for herself. Let me close her eyes and cover her up. She deserves better than this . . . let me give it to her."

"No!" Clark insisted fiercely, shielding Kara's lifeless form as though his own life depended on it. "There's still a chance . . . when the sun rises there's still a chance!"

"Clark," Martha reasoned patiently, "that monster wasn't human and you've never been this badly hurt before," she continued, her voice still soothing, "and there were times you almost didn't come back to us from far less . . . I'm sorry honey, but you have to accept that she's gone."

"I can't . . . I won't," Clark refused outright, the stubborn streak he'd seemed to inherit from Jonathan pushing boldly past any other emotion he may have been feeling, twisting his handsome face so gruesomely it made her flinch away from him. His features relaxed when he felt she was at a more comfortable distance from Kara, and this time it was John Jones who spoke up.

"Kal-El," the Martian Manhunter spoke to the heir to the House of El reverently, "I will not say that I understand your grief for I do not but I know that loss takes a heavy toll on the best of us, especially on those who have taken a great amount of responsibility on their shoulders as you have and you have lost much today . . . I do not think any less of you for showing the wear that your destiny has imposed upon you for it is a very great one and your emotions are a powerful weapon that you can use in the implementation of your destiny . . . but your mother is right . . . she and I respect that you are not yet ready to give up on your cousin and I give you my word that I will watch over Kara's body until you release me from the duty I am agreeing to . . . just let us close her eyes and cover her for now. It really is the decent thing to do."

"I'll stay and watch over her as well," Martha told her son reassuringly, "You should get to the hospital to check on everyone else and Chloe . . ."

John Jones' words seemed to bring Clark back to himself and both his and Martha's promises to stay with Kara while he fulfilled other responsibilities made him feel like a ton of bricks had been lifted off his shoulders, even though they were still heavily laden with several other tons of bricks. Clark straightened up so he was standing at full height, wiping at his wet tear-stained cheeks with the backs of his dirty hands.

"Let me do it," he said softly, definitely back to being her normal, mostly even-tempered son. "It's only right that I do it . . . she's my family."

Kneeling by Kara's side, he used the pads of his thumb and forefinger to persuade her eyes shut. Then he took the mostly whole table cloth out of his mother's hands and draped it gently, gracefully over his cousin's body and Martha could tell that that simple gesture had lightened her son's dark mood severely. He wasn't happy-go-lucky obviously but he was back to his 'suffer in silence' routine only there was something different about him . . . something she hadn't noticed until just now . . . there was something new in the way he carried himself that hadn't been there the last time she'd seen him, which she was sad to say hadn't been for months . . . before he'd gotten his job at the _Daily Planet_. Of course she'd read all about the mysterious Red-Blue Blur and had cried tears of pride and joy at all the efforts Clark was making to help people, but he was definitely different in a good way . . . he'd grown up, he had a more firm sense of responsibility regarding the bigger picture and the makings of a great leader one day when he was ready. Looking at him now, she realized that that day might just come a lot sooner than she'd thought possible and she was impressed. Her son had grown into a fine man just like his father.

"I'm heading to the hospital to check on everyone," Clark told them tonelessly, rolling his shoulders and rotating his neck to work out all the figurative and literal kinks that came with his responsibilities and also from being tossed around like a football by Doomsday, "but I'll be back . . . I'm expecting someone."

With one last glance at the table cloth, he turned and super-sped to the Smallville Medical Center leaving nothing behind him but a gust of wind.

"Thank you," Martha whispered to John Jones, her tears still flowing, "You were impossibly eloquent and he responded to you in a way I haven't seen since his father died."

"There is no need for a 'thank you' Martha Kent," John told her seriously, "I've been watching over Kal-El at Jor-El's request for his entire life and in many ways he feels like a son to me . . . which is not to say that I endeavor to replace Jonathan Kent in any way."

"I understand," Martha nodded at him, ". . . and I never thought that you were."

~*~

Clark's P.O.V.

The Smallville Medical Center emergency room was a bloody mess full of people who'd only suffered minor injuries from the wedding's abrupt 180 degree about face from party to tragedy. Clark struggled through the masses of wedding guests, doctors, nurses, and paramedics, trying to find Pete, Lucy, and Moira Sullivan. It took him a minute or two to glance through all the people but, eventually, he spotted them with the addition of Vanessa, Pete's plus one, Victor's love interest and the girl who'd informed him that Doomsday had taken Chloe. Pete's arm was in a cast and Lucy sported an arm sling with a wrist cast sticking out of it. Moira's and Vanessa's serious cuts had been stitched up and covered with tiny strips of paper tape. He headed in their direction, stopping shortly in front of the 'worse for wear' four.

"Clark!" Pete crowed, attempting a half-smile and failing miserably, clearly worrying over Chloe's kidnapping. "Have you found anything yet?"

"If you count finding the broken and nearly dead bodies of practically all of my friends, present company excluded, then yes, I've found plenty," Clark murmured, knowing now wasn't the appropriate time for sarcasm, it just slipped out of him as he was still adjusting to his responsibilities and was more than a little overwhelmed.

Pete gave him a funny look at his tone of voice. Clark shrugged apologetically at his old friend, "Sorry, I have a lot on my plate right now and it seems to be affecting my personality a bit . . . but to answer your question, no . . . I haven't had a chance to look for Chloe. There was too much carnage to be cleaned up after that monster attacked everyone and everything but it is one of my top priorities. Any news on Lois?"

"No," Lucy spat, her temper flaring, "They won't tell us a thing. I can't prove I'm Lois' sister so the only people they'll talk to are the people on her emergency contact list that they have on file and one of those people just got kidnapped by a monster who's taking her God knows where."

"Who else is on her emergency contact list?" Clark asked, only half paying attention. He was listening for Lois' familiar heartbeat.

"You," Moira supplied, knowing that if she allowed Lucy to reply she would blow her top.

That got Clark's full attention since he couldn't find Lois' heartbeat, "Me?"

"Yes you," Lucy flared up again, irritated with his surprise at this bit of information, "Didn't Lois tell you she was putting you on the list?"

"No," Clark admitted, "she never mentioned anything about it . . . I'll see if I can find anything out."

He ventured forward into the wayward throng until he spotted the doctor who had gotten Lois' heart beating again earlier, refusing to give up on his love because she knew that Lois Lane still had fight in her and she couldn't have been more right about the bloody brunette he'd staggered into the E.R. with four hours ago.

"Excuse me," Clark greeted her politely, noticing she looked completely harried and exhausted.

At his greeting she stopped, carefully rearranging her face so that it had a faux-pleasant air about it and attempted to speak in a voice that didn't display how tired she was, "Hello, what can I do for you?"

Clark zeroed in on her nametag making sure to remember that her name was Dr. Welling, "I'm sorry to bother you," Clark apologized genuinely, "I know you're terribly busy but I was wondering about a patient I brought in a few hours ago . . . Lois Lane."

"Are you Clark Kent?" Dr. Welling asked, her forehead wrinkling as she studied him.

"Yes I am, ma'am," Clark replied politely.

Dr. Welling nodded, her loosely wavy blonde bob bouncing up and down with her head, green eyes piercing his blue ones, "There's nothing to tell . . . she's still in surgery. I don't have time to keep track of all the patients I send to the OR today Mr. Kent . . . As you can surely see, we've got our work cut out for us, but I did check in on _her_ and like I said . . . there's nothing new to report."

"Thank you Dr. Welling," Clark appeased, his tone still polite even though he didn't like the news he'd been given, which was none. "There were others I brought in . . . people in really bad shape . . . Oliver Queen, Dinah Lance, Bart Allen, and I'm not quite sure if he's here because I didn't bring him myself, but Arthur Curry is his name . . . you wouldn't be able to tell me how they are would you?"

"Sorry Mr. Kent," Dr. Welling said evenly, "I can't tell you anything about them . . . even if you are on their emergency contact lists no one has time to check . . . we're totally swamped but you did a lot of good tonight. I promise if I get a chance I'll look into it for you."

"Thank you again," Clark told her sincerely, "I know I'm stretching the limit here with you but what about Jimmy Olsen and Lana Lang?"

"Same deal as before, Mr. Kent, sorry," Dr. Welling shrugged apologetically. Clark nodded at her in thanks this time instead of saying the words.

He turned and shuffled back to Pete, Lucy, Vanessa, and Moira, "There's no news yet . . . she's still in surgery."

"That's the best you could do?" Lucy raised her eyebrows skeptically, still not in control of her temper . . . the infamous Lane temper.

"What more do you want from me Lucy?" Clark demanded, losing his patience again. "I'm responsible for a lot of people tonight and if you think that'll be the last time I bother doctors and nurses to find out if the woman I love is okay, you don't know me very well!"

"I want answers!" Lucy cried determinedly, tears springing to her eyes, her lower lip jutting out in a pitiful pout. "I want my big sister! Things were supposed to be different this time . . . I was going to be myself . . . I was going to be good to her for everything she's done for me because she deserves it . . . and now I don't even know if she'll make it and she doesn't even know how much I love her! I can't just sit here waiting for hours on end not knowing if she's going to live or not! I just can't!"

Before anyone could see her completely lose it, she used her good hand to grab Pete's good hand and dragged him off in a random direction.

~*~

Lucy's P.O.V.

Lucy dragged Pete around several corners, left, right, left, left, right, right, right, left until they were deep into the hospital where she was certain they probably weren't allowed to be. She turned around in circles, the tears that had gathered in her eyes threatening to spill over, clouding her vision, until she found what she was looking for . . . a storage closet. She dragged Pete over to it and yanked on the door knob, a little surprised to find that the door was open. She pulled Pete inside, flicked on the light and shut the door behind them.

The closet they'd found was filled mostly with linens, but there were a couple of buckets in the corner. With some difficulty she and Pete flipped them over and sat on them, edging them close together so they were touching.

"I don't know what to do!" Lucy trilled, unshed tears thick in her voice. "Tell me what I'm supposed to do!" She begged.

Pete gathered her close to him, cradling her head against his chest, "We wait and we pray and in between we feel . . . you can't cut yourself off from this Lucy . . . you can't choose numbness this time like you always do. You have to feel this even though it's cruel and strange . . . you can't shut yourself off anymore."

"I don't know how to do that!" She cried desperately, snuggling closer to his chest.

"You're already doing it," Pete soothed, rubbing awkward circles on her back with his cast-encased hand. "Just let it out . . . I'm here and it's okay to cry . . . just let it out . . . I'm not going anywhere."

For some reason Lucy trusted Pete implicitly so she stopped holding back and let the tears come. She let the sobs shake her body until she was sore everywhere and still they continued to come. It was like she was letting years of repressed emotion leak out of her through her tear ducts and Pete was forever patient, still rubbing those awkward circles on her back and petting her hair, and with enough decency not to bother shushing her. All the misery, all the pain, all the worry was coming out of her in waves and there were a few times that she started to hyperventilate, but Pete helped her through it each time just as patiently as if she'd only just started to cry. All of a sudden all she wanted to do was kiss him for his kindness so she pulled her head away from the comfort of his chest and kissed him tenderly on the cheek.

"Thank you," she told him, endless gratitude shining in her voice. She brought her head up even more so she could look into his eyes. She wanted him to see in them how grateful she really was.

He gave her a tentative smile and pulled a towel off one of the racks in the closet with his good arm, proceeding to wipe away her tears, cleaning up the mess they had made of her face. The gesture was tender and sweet and he treated her face like precious porcelain that was easily breakable as he continued to clean her up.

"Why was I the lucky one?" Lucy murmured, suddenly content in Pete's arms as he continued to dab at her face, despite the fact she was still deathly worried about her sister and cousin.

"Things just happen, Lucy," Pete whispered back, "life just happens . . . luck has nothing to do with it."

~*~

Clark's P.O.V.

Pete and Lucy had disappeared an hour ago but he knew they were okay . . . he'd concentrated his hearing until he found Pete's familiar heartbeat and found that Lucy hadn't dragged him off to have some wild, impatient, grief sex . . . she just needed somewhere quiet and out of the way so she could cry. Maybe he'd judged her incorrectly, maybe there was more to Lucy Lane than her over the top sex appeal, maybe she was just afraid to let anyone in just like he was and she needed someone to understand that and be okay with it. She seemed to have found that person in Pete and despite the grave situation he was happy they'd found each other.

Clark pulled the black cell phone out of his suit pocket, meandered to a place where he wouldn't be easily overheard, and pressed the send button again, only having to wait one ring before he was answered just like the first time, "Anything new to report Boy Scout?"

For a second Clark was surprised to hear his Justice League name, especially in the dour tone that seemed to be Bruce Wayne's signature emotion when he spoke, like the world was always on the verge of an end. For all he knew it constantly was in Gotham, but he'd never been there before and he hadn't taken much time away from his hero's journey to focus on any places besides Smallville and Metropolis.

"Just wondering what your ETA is," Clark told the man on the other end of the line.

"An hour and a half at most but I'm pushing for an hour," Bruce answered, his voice monotone.

"Just curious," Clark started out, "what's your Justice League name?"

"Batman," Bruce supplied easily, the lightest Clark had heard his voice go so far, as if he was proud of the moniker.

"Good to know," Clark tucked that piece of information into the file he'd created for Bruce Wayne in his head. "I found Arthur Curry . . . he was already at the hospital when I brought in the others, I just didn't know it."

"So all members of The Justice League are present and accounted for?" Bruce asked, just making sure.

"Yes," Clark answered, "but the hospital won't budge on giving me any information on any of their conditions. The whole place is so swamped with the bloody aftermath of the wedding, they can hardly keep up."

"Bloody aftermath?" Bruce questioned, extremely curious as to what had taken out the entire Justice League and apparently an entire wedding. He was frustrated that Clark wouldn't share with him what had happened until he arrived . . . all the more reason to get to Smallville as quickly as possible.

"Like I told you in our first conversation, it's complicated," Clark supplied, doing nothing to alleviate Bruce's curiosity over the whole thing.

"Well, if you don't have anything else of import to report, we have nothing more to say to each other until I land . . . I'll see you shortly," Bruce said crisply, hanging up the phone.

Clark wasn't sure he liked Bruce Wayne. Clark was never one to judge but it sounded like he had a colossal stick up his ass. He'd asked Moira Sullivan if she'd ever heard of Bruce Wayne before while they were waiting for news on Lois and everyone else, and she'd told him all about Wayne Enterprises and how he was one of the richest men in the world just like Oliver . . . just like Lex had been and still was if he was alive somewhere. He thought about Bruce's superhero name and almost laughed . . . Batman? If you were a billionaire several times over and you had the chance to pick any costume and name to go along with it, who would choose Batman? Maybe there was a story behind it.

~*~

Davis' P.O.V.

Davis startled awake and found himself lying on some sort of stone slab in what looked like a castle made entirely of ice and if the howling of the wind was any indication, he was pretty sure he was no longer anywhere near Kansas. Supremely confused he twisted his head around to survey the rest of his surroundings only to find a figure in a white dress that was covered in blood . . . Chloe was standing in the shadows several feet away from him. He pushed himself off of the stone surface and rushed to her, fearing the worst considering all the blood that stained her wedding gown.

"Chloe?" He called the worry evident in his voice. The closer he got the more worried he became, "Oh my God! Are you okay?"

He stopped short, alarm bells were going off inside his head, but that didn't prevent his eyes from roving over her body, checking, in true paramedic form, for any injury that might have caused the stain on her dress. Chloe stepped out of the shadows and into the light. She had dark circles under her eyes, her face was pallid, and her lips were chapped, but what scared Davis the most was her eyes . . . they weren't the warm, inviting hazel blue he'd come to know and love . . . they were black as pitch.

"I'm just about perfect," she answered, her voice different than he'd ever heard it. It was cold, calloused . . . evil. This disturbed him greatly and after his experience with Lois only a few weeks ago it made him incredibly wary and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he stared at her.

He had to get closer . . . he had to see her up close to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. He had to be hallucinating, so he strode almost confidently up to her to take a better look, relaxing his face as he did so, but she looked the same up close as she did from ten feet away. She was standing on another stone slab that made up the floor to wherever it was they were and it was higher up than the ground he was standing on, making it necessary for him to look up at her. Her face was cold and calculating and she whipped a hand out to grip his throat, turning it this way and that as she studied him, her hand grasped so tightly she could have easily choked him to death.

"You appear undamaged," she spoke in the same cold, calloused voice she had before and there was no trace of her bubbly, bright grin. His first assessment of her had been correct . . . she looked like a junkie in need of her next fix. As a paramedic he could think of a number of explanations to explain away the dark circles, her pallid complexion, and her chapped lips, but there wasn't a single thing in the entirety of his medical knowledge that explained the change in her eyes. Again, alarm bells sounded inside his head . . . _This isn't Chloe!_

"Chloe what happened to you?" Davis pleaded with her for an explanation, begged for an answer that would shut off the ringing inside his head, the ringing that told him this wasn't the girl he'd fallen for.

"Chloe Sullivan ceased to exist the minute she entered this fortress," the cold voice replied, confirming his worst fears, "I'm the Brain Interactive Construct," it said, continuing to study him.

Gently he placed his hand on her wrist and removed it from his throat, earnestly looking her in her odd, menacing black eyes with his green-brown ones, hoping he could bring the real Chloe back, to get her to trust him implicitly the way she had when she'd lost all her memories of everyone but him.

"Look at me," he implored her desperately, ". . . It's me. It's Davis."

She scoffed at him outright and the sound was cruel to his ears, "You're no Davis Bloome," she told him, and his face fell as he remembered Lois telling him something similar before she'd rammed a metal piece of hospital guard railing through his chest, killing him for a short while. He'd woken up to find that nothing could penetrate his skin anymore, "You're not even human. Don't tell me the thought never crossed your mind," it said cockily, a smirk fixed nastily on Chloe's face. It was the first time he'd ever found Chloe unattractive he thought distractedly, the main part of his mind trying to absorb the words it was saying. His face fell even further to the point of pathetic. His expression seemed to make the 'Brain Interactive Construct' downright amused, "You were hatched by Kryptonian geneticists," it informed him, stepping forward toward him which automatically made him step back from it, "Your DNA was designed to adapt to any world you inhabit," it continued forward, which continued to press him backward, his mind trying feebly to understand what the 'Brain Interactive Construct' was telling him, all the while feeling like he was being backed into a corner, the alarm bells in his head going off consistently now, making it hard for him to think straight, "Now you no longer need your camouflage abilities . . . Those painful transformations you've been experiencing . . . they're the beginning of your metamorphosis."

"This is insane," Davis insisted, trying to argue with the 'Brain Interactive Construct,' even though it scared him that it knew about his black outs and what he remembered as bony spikes protruding out of his hand only hours ago when the rent-a-cop had cornered him by the dumpster in the alleyway in Metropolis.

"No," the Brain Interactive Construct said icily, haughtily, still moving forward and backing Davis away from it, "it's sad from a human perspective. Your naïve romantic attraction to the human I chose to inhabit," it went on, pressing Chloe's face close to his as though it was about to kiss him if not for the ugly expression it had twisted Chloe's beautiful features with.

"Chloe," Davis continued to argue, "If you're in there anywhere you know that the feelings I have for you are real," he insisted, trying inanely to reach Chloe, if she was even still inside her own body . . . if she was she was trapped and there was nothing she could do to save him from the Brain Interactive Construct.

Brainiac pulled Chloe's head away from Davis', a smug, mocking expression on her face, "Feelings? It was just a program I was running to get you to me," Brainiac admitted, his voice more cruel than ever. He turned away from Davis, walking only a few feet away as he looked up at the ceiling of the fortress, "Your journey's just beginning . . . Now it's time for you to incubate in your Kryptonian chrysalis," Brainiac explained and Davis balked at its plans for him. When Brainiac spoke again his voice was a mix of cocky, certain, and determined, punctuating certain syllables to get his message across that Davis Bloom had no choice in the matter, "Once you emerge there will be no more _pain_, no _doubt_, only absolute rage and unparalleled power."

Brainiac turned to look back at him over Chloe's shapely shoulder, a satisfied smile on his lips, but it wasn't Chloe's smile . . . the smile that melted his heart every time Davis beheld it . . . it was a malicious smile, a confident smile, a smile that chilled Davis to the bone. He mustered up his best brave, threatening voice and growled, "Stay the hell away!"

He turned around to walk away, to try and leave this 'fortress' as the Brain Interactive Construct had called it, only to be faced by it as it moved with lightning speed. He couldn't conceal the shock and surprise on his face at the way it moved.

"You play a vital part in my directive," it told him mercilessly, "Once I get everything I need, you will eradicate the other Kryptonian and then the rest of the planet."

Davis adamantly shook his head, mustering up the will to argue, "I am not going to hurt anyone."

Davis may have been feeling a lot of things at the moment but one thing he didn't feel was vulnerable, the possessed Lois, his 'mother,' had made sure he was untouchable, and the more he hung around this 'Brain Interactive Construct' the angrier he was getting. If it wasn't careful, Davis might just fight back . . . he had deduced that since this creature, whatever it was, knew so much about his Kryptonian heritage it must also be Kryptonian like he was and if that was the case, then he could move just as fast as the 'Brain Interactive Construct' could.

"You have no free will," Brainiac hissed menacingly, voice low and impatient, turning it's back on Davis and walking a few feet forward, leaving him to contemplate this, "Twelve days in your chrysalis and you're destined to become what you really are . . . Doomsday," it said, looking over it's shoulder at him, triumph decorating Chloe's face in an unattractive smirk. It was the second time that night that Davis had found Chloe unattractive and all of a sudden all he felt was rage.

His eyes flashed neon red, and he roared at Brainiac, "I will not hurt anyone!"

"And I already told you you have no choice in the matter," Brainiac hissed again, its patience with Doomsday's human form wearing thin.

"You think you can control me just because you inhabit Chloe's body?" Davis spat, willing the transformation to occur for once, he could endure the pain as long as he got himself far away from this creature. "You're wrong!"

"Are you attempting to fight me?" Brainiac mocked, way too certain of itself. It let out a cackling laugh that sounded dirty to Davis' ears. "You cannot fight Fate!"

Davis felt himself change and, for once, he wasn't blacking out . . . he was in control and he let out a hideous howl at Brainiac's mocking laughter, "I don't believe in Fate!"

He hurled himself at Chloe, skidding across the ground of the 'fortress' and breaking through several of the ice crystals that made up its interior. He was on top and he back-handed Chloe in the face watching the blood spatter, coloring the white of the ice bright red. He punched her as hard as he could once more for good measure and saw that the 'Brain Interactive Construct' was unconscious. Not willing to waste a second, Davis broke into a run, bursting through an icy wall, easily covering a hundred miles in a split second as he transformed back into his human visage. He didn't dare stop for fear of Brainiac coming to and following after him, so he kept going, running so fast he flew across the water in what he assumed was the arctic. All he wanted was to go someplace where the 'Brain Interactive Construct' wouldn't find him which meant Metropolis was out of the question . . . maybe he should hide out somewhere freakishly warm like Brazil. Maybe Brainiac only liked chilly environments, but one thing was for certain . . . he could only hide for so long before he showed his face again. He was certain that Brainiac hadn't lied to him about any of the things it had said, which meant there was another Kryptonian here on Earth and it had made it sound like this Kryptonian was meant for good, and since he apparently was made from the most powerful life forms on Krypton to wreak unspeakable havoc on Earth, maybe being around this good Kryptonian would somehow save him from becoming evil. The only problem was how to find this good Kryptonian . . . and then something very clearly popped into his memory . . . A conversation with Clark Kent.

"_What are you doing with a file stuffed full of morbid pictures of murder victims?!" Clark demanded._

"_You broke into my locker?!" Davis tugged the file out of Clark's hands furiously._

"_Collecting pictures of all the murder victims is a pretty strange habit, isn't it?" Clark continued accusatorily._

"_Do you know how many murders in this city go unsolved every year?" Davis asked seriously, calming down a bit, "I show up, I take away the bodies, case closed . . . Maybe I want to do more than just clean up the mess after it's too late!"_

"_And now the whole city refers to you as a hero, huh?" Clark still came at him even though he'd turned his back on the tall 'farm boy turned reporter,' and walked several feet away. His comment stopped him in his tracks. "Maybe I'd have an easier time believing that all of this was true if I had some proof that that's actually what happened."_

"_Okay," Davis bristled, "you know what, I understand if you don't want to join the knee jerk ticker tape parade, but let me ask you a question. Are you really up in my face because you're trying to catch a killer, or is it because you're trying to hide something yourself?"_

"_Don't turn this around on me," Clark glared at him._

"_Then why don't you take a second look at those photos? I'm not the only one hanging out at these crime scenes . . . there's another figure in the background . . . You seem to be the city's own peeping Tom," Davis revealed, looking at Clark with piercing eyes._

"_I'm a reporter . . . it's my job!" Clark defended himself a little lamely._

"_These photos were taken before any press could have made it to the scene," Davis threw at him, turning the tables, "So, uh, next time you feel anxious to shine a light on things that don't make sense . . . you might want to stay closer to home." And he left Clark with a shaken expression on his face, but Davis was so angry, paranoid, and uncertain that he might have actually been the killer he left the conversation at that, filing it away in his mind until now._

Everything was beginning to make sense . . . Clark Kent was the other Kryptonian. It was the only way he could've gotten to those crime scenes as fast as he had because he could move the way Davis, a Kryptonian, could move, the way whatever had taken over Chloe, a Kryptonian creation, could move. Clark was the Red-Blue Blur, using his alien powers to save people, the one person standing in Doomsday's way to annihilating Earth that is unless he counted his little act of rebellion against the 'Brain Interactive Construct.' He had to get to Clark Kent. However, Chloe was Clark's best friend and had probably been chosen by the 'Brain Interactive Construct' to inhabit for that reason, so maybe it would be best if he stayed away from Clark Kent for a little while.

~*~

Clark's P.O.V.

Dr. Welling had been true to her word. Every now and again she would walk briskly up to Clark and tell him that Lois was still in surgery and would be for several more hours. She couldn't tell him anything about Oliver and the others because, even though it had died down a little, they still didn't have time to check emergency contact lists, and while Oliver had been treated at the Smallville Medical Center, none of the other members of The Justice League had, which meant that the Smallville Medical Center would have to request them from Queen Industries since they all, on paper, worked relatively mundane 9 to 5 jobs for Oliver, except for Dinah who had her own radio show. They'd have to request her medical records from Metropolis General Hospital.

Clark fumed slightly at the lack of news, more frustrated than he'd ever been before in his entire life when the black emergency cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out with his too-large hand and flipped it open, pressing it against his ear, "Shoot."

"I'm about to land in one of your vacant cornfields," Bruce told him tersely, "I suggest you get yourself back to your barn. There are things we need to talk about."

"I'll be there in a second," Clark told him, hanging up. He turned to Moira, "I have to take care of some business out at the farm, but I'll be back as soon as I can."

"You're leaving?" Moira asked, astounded. "You're the only person who can tell me if my niece is okay and you're going to go just like that?"

"The business I have to take care involves Lois and Chloe, Mrs. Sullivan," Clark revealed. "I can stay here for another eight hours until your niece gets out of surgery giving you absolutely no news about her condition until then or I can go now, take care of this business, and possibly find your daughter in those eight hours . . . I want to be by Lois' side when she wakes up, but I'm dealing with more than just one life here and I can't be selfish right now even though I want to be," Clark told her baldly. "I'm sorry if that makes you think badly of me, but, unfortunately, I'll just have to live with that."

Without another word, Clark stormed out of the waiting room less in an angry way and more in a determined one. Once he hit a private space, he shot into the air and flew at full speed back home. It only took him two seconds and Bruce's jet had yet to land. It was a beautiful machine, black as coal but sleek and shiny. The aerodynamics were perfect and Clark had a feeling this jet could go a lot faster than your average billionaire's. It touched down about a minute after Clark's arrival and the door, which seemed to appear out of nowhere, opened and a flight of sturdy looking stairs were lowered to the ground. A man about six feet tall wearing a dark grey cashmere Armani suit with matching tie and dress shoes, brown hair so dark it looked almost black, and a confident demeanor began to descend the stairs. Clark was there to greet him as he stepped from the last immaculate step onto the mixture of hay and dirt on the ground.

Clark stuck out his hand, "Clark Kent."

Bruce Wayne looked exactly the way he'd sounded on the phone – dour, but he grasped Clark's hand and shook it firmly, "Bruce Wayne."


	14. Chapter 14

To everyone who has reviewed my updates to _The Moment He Knew_:

I just want to thank you all and apologize for not sending a personal note to you for your thoughtfulness and willingness not only to review but to stick with this story even though it didn't seem like I was ever going to post again. I will be more careful now, and make sure that I show individual gratitude to those who send in reviews. To all of you who have not sent in a review I just want to thank you for reading my story at all. You guys are great.


	15. Chapter 15

Hey guys! I was hoping you might all share with me your favorite Clois moments up through Season 8 Episode 10 – Bride and also what your favorite family bonding moments between Clark and Kara. If you decide to share your thoughts with me please include the season number, the title of the episode, and why you enjoy the moment so much. Thanks!

LuvLoisNClark


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I own neither Smallville nor Superman nor Batman. They belong to people and companies far greater than I. The characters are just really fun to play with when borrowed. I stole the character Vanessa Abrams from Gossip Girl who belongs to The CW, but she is a couple years older in this fic because it is just more appropriate.

SPOILER ALERT: This story is loosely based on "Bride." If you haven't seen this episode yet, I wouldn't read this until you have, unless you don't care. This chapter takes place during the episode "Legion."

Summary: AU - What if Oliver had listened to Clark in "Bride" and stayed behind so Clark could go with him to track Lex after the wedding?

Rating: This chapter is rated T, though, as promised, eventually it will become M

**Author's Note: I just thought I should mention to everyone that Ollie has already taken over LuthorCorp even though this didn't happen until later on in the show's timeline. Thanks for all the wonderful feedback and encouragement! Especially to Superlc529 – you ROCK!!!

The Moment He Knew

Chapter 13 – Truce, Justice & the American Way

Clark's P.O.V.

"It's nice to put a face to the voice," Clark admitted, smiling at the older man. Bruce wasn't old, but he was probably a couple years Clark's senior, and he was clutching an expansive black leather briefcase.

Bruce didn't smile back and said nothing in response to Clark's comment. He was already busy surveying the damage. His eyes took in the mass of oddly angled, upside down cars before sweeping his gaze across the barn that was barely standing up. There were so many holes in the walls and roof it looked like wooden Swiss cheese.

"How did you get here so fast and what on Earth managed to do all this damage in minutes?" Bruce demanded, frowning.

"Well," Clark began, the smile leaving his face after Bruce's failure to acknowledge his warm welcome, "the answer is a little out there," he threw an arm toward the sky and flung it in a circle so Bruce would get an idea as to how strange the answer really was, "which is why I wanted to wait for you to be here in person before I told you what happened."

"And you still _haven't_ told me," Bruce said pertly, studying the damage again.

"You have to understand that this is difficult for me and you're not exactly personable which makes telling you what happened that much harder," Clark smoldered, his temper flaring again.

"How difficult could it be?" Bruce scoffed, leering at Clark briefly.

"You'd be surprised," Clark answered stonily, folding his arms across his chest, his face twisted in irritation. Bruce rubbed Clark the wrong way just the same as Dinah rubbed Lois the wrong way . . . maybe the two of them could work out in a relationship, that is, if Dinah survived. But Oliver had Bruce as a back up for a reason so he must have been trustworthy or else Green Arrow wouldn't have bothered with him.

"Nothing surprises me," Bruce smirked, looking Clark up and down for the first time since landing and emerging from his private jet. He noted the blood covering his suit jacket and dress shirt, "I don't think you'll get your deposit back for that."

"Are you trying to be _funny_?" Clark asked incredulously. "After looking at all this," he motioned to the chaos around him, "you're making a joke?"

"An observation," Bruce corrected, "and I'm trying to make conversation since you're so intent on stalling telling me the truth about what happened here last night_. _The sun is rising as we speak. I don't normally bother with idle chit chat, but I'm trying to figure out why Oliver Queen has so much faith in a _farm boy_ from Nowheresville, Kansas, USA."

As the sun rose, Clark began to feel a very peculiar sensation ripple throughout his body and this time it was painful, unlike the initial introduction of the new forms of kryptonite the night before when John had pressed them to his chest. He fell to his knees, yelling out in agony, clawing deep gashes in the Earth and choking out gasping breaths as the final vestiges of the transformation of the night before took place. John Jones was at his side a few seconds later, coaching Clark, telling him that the pain would all be over soon. After a few minutes, as promised, the pain went away and John helped him to his feet, but Clark was still breathing heavily as he recovered from the pain. Bruce stood in the same place, studying him astutely from the start of the attack to the end, but Bruce didn't matter at the moment because he was right . . . the sun was up and the only thing Clark could think about was Kara.

"Kara," he whispered, still recovering from the pain. He wasn't up to super-speeding to the barn, especially since he had yet to tell Bruce his secret, so John clasped his forearm firmly with his and helped him there, not needing an explanation as to where he was headed.

His mother was still sitting beside Kara's table-cloth covered body, the yellow sun hadn't made any difference. Kara was still dead. He hung his head, recovering faster and faster until he felt like a whole different person. John had warned him of this, that exposure to the yellow sun might cause the transform to progress, but he hadn't actually expected it to happen, and though he knew he was changed for the better, mostly in ways he did not yet know, he still felt useless. If only Chloe was there and still had her healing meteor power, but she wasn't and she didn't have her power anymore. Kara was really gone, but for some reason he couldn't give up on her. Maybe it would take a few days worth of sunshine to heal her. He wouldn't give up hope so he would wait. Part of him knew he was being ridiculous and irrational, but the bigger part of him, the instinctual part, told him that this wasn't the end_. _It just _couldn't_ be. He wouldn't let it.

"Who's Kara?" Bruce asked demurely, having made his way to the barn and positioned himself behind Clark and John, but in a spot where Martha could easily see him.

"Who are _you_?" Martha demanded, her voice had an edge to it that Clark had never heard before and he realized that she was grieving and angry, and Bruce's presence in her home, because to her it was still her true home, made her get defensive.

"Bruce Wayne," Bruce answered, not batting an eyelash at her harshness. "I've been on the waiting list to have a conference with you for a year now Senator Kent . . . usually money does the trick when I really want to see someone with political power at their fingertips, but not you."

"Damn right," Martha puffed up, her face still edgy. She wasn't sure she liked having this man on her property,

"Kara is my cousin," Clark answered, the first of the many questions Bruce had asked that he had answered so far, gesturing loosely to the covered figure on the bale of hay. He closed his eyes, tears threatening to fall, ". . . my dead cousin."

Bruce's eyes widened just a tiny bit, but if one wasn't looking at him or paying attention, one wouldn't have noticed the change, "Shouldn't she be in a morgue or something?"

Clark whirled around to face the dark billionaire, an angry scowl on his face, "Obviously tact isn't one of your super powers and no, she should _not_ be in a morgue. She could still come back from this! She's a fighter! She _will_ come back from this. It's not her time yet."

"How can a person come back from death?" Bruce asked, his voice derisive.

"Because she's special," Clark bit out impatiently, "She's _different_, like me."

"What does that mean?" Bruce asked, his voice inflected with incredulity for once.

"You asked me earlier what on Earth could have caused this much damage in only a few minutes," Clark stared at him, sizing him up, "What did this wasn't from Earth and neither am I."

"Are you _honestly_ trying to tell me that an alien did this, that _you_ are an alien?" Bruce almost mocked.

"Would you like proof?" Clark asked, his voice so sweet it was saccharine and clearly sarcastic.

"Considering I don't believe in little green men, proof would be nice," Bruce admitted, carefully concealing the shock he felt at Clark's revelation.

Clark squared his shoulders, a look of intensity clinging to his chiseled features as he picked up a stray piece of metal, a thicker piece, and twisted it into knots before tossing it away like a piece of balled up newspaper. Next, he concentrated his heat vision on the poster congratulating Chloe and Jimmy on their wedding and it set fire instantly, feeling it an appropriate metaphor considering the carnage surrounding them all and making Bruce jump around to see what had made the popping noise when the cloth and paint started to blaze orange with flames.

When Clark was sure he had Bruce's full attention again he super-sped all over the barn before returning to the exact spot he had inhabited only a second before. Then, he sucked in an enormous breath and blew frosty air on the dark billionaire, leaving snow flecked on his cashmere suit and a slightly blue tint to Bruce's skin. At last, he floated six feet into the air and levitated in Bruce's direction, landing directly in front of him before using his heat vision again – this time to warm the new billionaire in his life up from his chilled state.

Clark arched an eyebrow, "Now, I know that some people have fetishes and whatnot, and, of all things, I suppose a Bat fetish isn't all that bad or crazy even, but black silk boxers imported from Italy with bats all over them? That's just weird! And before you jump to any incorrect conclusions, the only reason I know what type of underwear you're wearing is because I have X-ray vision, and, believe me, I wasn't looking for the fun of it," Clark growled dangerously, daring Bruce to say something mouthy about him knowing the color and pattern of his underwear.

To alleviate any assumptions that Bruce might have come to about him liking to look at men in their boxer shorts and just for good measure, he added, "You're also wearing some kind of metallic alloy body armor thin enough to be concealed underneath a light-weight suit, you've got what appear to be Bat-shaped ninja stars spring-loaded up to the elbow in mechanisms of the same metal alloy as your body armor, and you've got pressure-released switchblades that come out of the toes of your dress shoes."

Bruce's face remained stoic despite Clark's pessimistic raillery as he took in every amazing and supernatural thing he'd just witnessed. After several moments, a slight smile quirked his lips, and he said wryly, "I can only imagine the comforts of the dizzying array of red and blue plaid flannel boxers you clearly own, _Boy Scout_ . . . but I'll take my imported black silk bats over low-thread count flannel any day. As for the weaponry, not all of us are blessed with indestructibility from what humans consider the norm. Not all of us are preternaturally prepared."

Clark huffed in partial amusement and rolled his eyes at the older man, "Why don't we agree to disagree about our choice of underwear, _Batman_ and get back to the important issues at hand, shall we?"

Bruce shrugged, the small smile lingering on his mouth just a bit longer before his face turned completely serious again. "The alien creature that did this – are you and it of the same origin?"

Clark rolled his eyes again, "Yes, we're from the same planet so I suppose that would make us of the same origin so to speak, but it is composed of life forms from my home planet with which Kara and I do not share a gene pool," he explained, still referring to his cousin as though she was alive, "though I suppose the genetic strain would be similar."

"I never thought I'd ever say this because nothing ever fazes me," Bruce began, "but I think I've finally found my threshold for 'tales of the weird and unexplained.'"

Clark visibly winced at the reminder of Chloe, the fact that she remained missing, and that he couldn't seem to do anything about it, "For such a hoity-toity jackass who seems to immensely enjoy choking on his own silver spoon, you're a real comedian," he spat contemptuously.

"Clark Joseph Kent," Martha seethed, loosing her anger on her unsuspecting son, "I raised you better than to be rude to a guest in our home, especially one who is here to help you with all the damage that has been done here today!"

Clark looked sheepishly at his mother but remained unrepentant for his comment . . . Bruce had hit a very sensitive nerve, and, for the moment, Clark simply could not turn off his emotions. It was one of the side effects of both the end of his transformation and the stress of the situation. Bruce, however, had no problem with Clark's barb and instead came up with his own calloused retort.

"And for a self-righteous farm boy from another planet with enough strength to pick up my private jet, I figured you'd have no problem removing the giant stick wedged up your ass, but hey, who am I to judge?" He sneered sarcastically, his lips curling up into that slight smile again.

This comment equally irked Martha, sending her on the warpath, and she marched up to Bruce with her chest puffed out and a snarl on her lips, her voice fierce with reproval, "Excuse me! Did I just hear you insult my son?" She asked, her eyes blazing with a fury that Clark had never seen before. "I don't know who you think you are, Mr. Wayne, but you are a guest in my home and you have only just met my son! Though I'm sure your life has been full of tragedy and loss to provoke and drive you to performing heroic acts and allying yourself with Oliver Queen, you have _no_ idea what my son has been through growing up on a planet that is not his own. You do not know how he has _struggled_ and how much he has lost and sacrificed to be the man standing before you_. _He watched most all of his friends and loved ones being ripped to shreds only hours ago! His only true family is lying dead before him and you make jokes and snide comments?! Make one more and I will personally kick your ass off my property!" She fumed dangerously at the man who towered above her, sending both superheroes into appropriate mortification and shame.

After a few calming breaths, precipitated in part by soothing pats on the back from John Jones, she spoke again, but her voice was no longer wrathful, "Now, the two of you are both obviously very special men who have been brought together in a time of crisis by another very special man who has a higher purpose in life, which I know to also be true of you," she said, directing her calculating gaze at her son, "and since you bothered, Mr. Wayne, to make a six hour flight all the way from Gotham, I have to believe that you share a similar purpose, but I do not believe that that purpose is to stand here sniping at each other. The entire Justice League needs the two of you to work together, so get past your hostility and behave like the grown men you both are. Save lives! It's what you were meant to do!"

"Martha Kent is right, Kal-El," John Jones remarked solemnly, also eyeing the native Kryptonian with disdain. "Neither your Earth father nor your Kryptonian one would approve of your enmity. It is not befitting of a Kryptonian prince to act as such."

Clark gazed down at the ground briefly at these admonishments and was immediately remorseful for his harsh and hasty words. He looked up so that his blue eyes were level with Bruce's green ones, "Truce?" he offered, his voice neutral. He couldn't muster anything that sounded friendly since he was still wildly affected by Bruce's _Tales of the Weird and Unexplained_ comment, but he at least made the effort.

"Truce," Bruce conceded, holding out his hand for Clark to shake.

Clark took the proffered hand and squeezed a little too hard just to let Bruce know he wasn't dealing with an "Average Joe," just in case the message wasn't received by his open demonstration of most of his Kryptonian abilities. Bruce squeezed back as hard as he could and for the first time since they'd met, a full-fledged smile graced his lips.

"Feisty one aren't you?" He remarked with approval. "I respect that trait in a person. Mix that in with all of your abilities and you'll go far." Bruce had no idea just how true that statement would become.

Clark returned the smile fleetingly before letting go of the older man's hand, "We should probably get to the hospital."

Bruce nodded, "That would be prudent. Is one of these cars yours?" He asked, gesturing to the sea of automobiles belonging to the wedding guests that were parked in the grazing pasture.

"The red Dodge Ram," Clark revealed, pointing at his untouched truck.

"I should have known," Bruce smirked, then frowned and shook his head, "That will never do."

Clark quirked an eyebrow at the dark man he'd just made a shaky alliance with, "Well, it didn't end up as a piece of cannon fodder in the Kryptonian Monster Truck Rally caused by the major throw-down between my cousin and Doomsday, and it runs well. I don't see any problem."

Bruce cocked his head to the side when Clark mentioned 'Doomsday,' filing the name away as that of the monster responsible for their current predicament as well as his reference to being Kryptonian which had to be Clark's home planet, since Boy Scout had not used that name for it before in his explanation while he searched the sea of sound cars for something more suitable.

"Oh, I don't doubt that it runs well, Kent," Bruce smirked at him, "but it lacks something."

"And what might that be?" Clark inquired haughtily, not pleased with his confusion over Bruce's actions.

"A certain elegance, a refinery," Bruce clarified, nodding pertly. "There's no finesse." He continued studying the untouched cars until he spotted one to his liking, "Now _that_," he said gesturing to Oliver's yellow Lamborghini and ignoring Clark's effusive eye roll, "_that_ has finesse."

"You're kidding right?" Clark asked incredulously as he stared at Oliver's car.

Bruce narrowed his eyes at the younger man, "Do I look like the kind of man who would kid at a time like this?"

"All previous comedic experience since I've met you aside?" Clark raised his eyebrows.

Bruce huffed, "You're confusing snobbery with practicality, Kent."

It was Clark's turn to huff, "How so?"

"Well," Bruce started, his tone condescending, "I'm Bruce Wayne, and there are certain expectations that come along with being Bruce Wayne . . . like showing up anywhere, including a hospital, in a farm boy's truck. I'd say we could ride the Clark Kent Express, but I have a feeling you've been a little lax about keeping your ability to fly to yourself today, and though I'd prefer something black, this brightly colored Lamborghini will have to do."

"That's Oliver Queen's car," Clark informed the dark billionaire, conceding his point about his less than secret airborne deliveries to the hospital. "We don't have the keys, so how are we supposed to drive it to the medical center?"

Bruce smiled a secret, sneaky smile and reached his hand into his pocket to retrieve a very handy device that Lucius Fox had designed for him. All he had to do was press a little button and the car alarm would be rendered useless and the engine putty in his hands. He pressed the button and Ollie's Lamborghini roared to life before the two men.

"How did you do that? What is that thing?" Clark demanded, suddenly curious and, though he didn't want to admit it, envious.

"I have a tech guy," Bruce explained simply, opening the driver's side door and climbing in, "You coming?"

Clark didn't have to be asked twice. He threw open the passenger side door and hopped in. He didn't even have the door shut all the way before Bruce sped off toward the Smallville medical center.

"Please speak your destination for GPS coordination," a mechanical female voice requested benignly.

"Smallville Medical Center," Bruce and Clark said in unison.

"Thank you," the mechanical voice said pleasantly.

Clark glanced sidelong at Bruce, "So is grand theft auto just another one of your hobbies or do you get your kicks walking the line by fighting crime and breaking the law? Because from where I'm sitting, you can't rightly fight crime and be a criminal in unison."

Bruce didn't look at Clark as he responded, "One of the many perks of being a vigilante is that you get to be both a criminal and hero. Sometimes one needs to break the law in order to uphold it."

"I don't believe that," Clark said vehemently.

Bruce smirked again, his voice sardonic, "So you're telling me that in all the time you've been speeding around saving people's lives and averting countless natural and manmade disasters, you haven't found it necessary to bend even one little tiny rule to get the job done?"

Clark sighed in frustration because he didn't even have to think about it to know that Bruce was right.

Bruce snorted in victory, "That's what I thought, farm boy. I believe Machiavelli phrased it best when he coined the theory that 'the end justifies the means'."

Clark turned to stare at Bruce in the driver's seat and narrowed his eyes, "First, talk like that makes you sound like Lex Luthor, and second – you may call me one of three things: Boy Scout, Red-Blue Blur, or Clark Kent, but you may _not_ refer to me as farm boy."

"Fine, fine," Bruce said flippantly, raising his hand off the steering wheel with a passive hand wave, "Whatever you want, Smallville."

Clark's eyes blazed with fury and pain, "And you most definitely may not call me Smallville! There's only one person who can call me that and you are definitely not her! And is it some sort of billionaire prerequisite to drive like you're navigating the freaking Indy-500? Because every billionaire I've ever ridden with, including Lex Luthor, drives like a madman!"

Bruce chuckled, "Hit a nerve did I, Clarkie?"

"God!" Clark screeched, his heart clenching excruciatingly as he heard Lois' velvety voice whispering Smallville and Clarkie in his ear, "You just know exactly where to hit and once you've found that Achilles Heel you just keep on flicking it don't you?! You just don't know when to quit do you? You cannot call me Clarkie either, and while you're at it, slow the hell down or did you not pick up on my not so subtle hint about channeling _Speed Racer_?"

Bruce rolled his eyes, "Surely you've spent enough time in Metropolis by now to realize that city life moves a lot faster than way out here in the boonies, and that statement is more than a tad ironic coming from an individual who can move faster than a speeding bullet."

"You're a mean disrespectful cuss aren't you, Mr. Wayne?" Clark bickered rigidly.

Bruce shrugged, unapologetic, "I only respect people who have earned it, Mr. Kent_. _So far you have yet to prove your salt with me. In the eight odd hours I've known of your existence you've managed to let the entire Justice League plus countless others end up in the hospital near death, not to mention the fact that you let your cousin die, because you couldn't hold your own against this Doomsday character."

Clark's vision went red with rage, "Achilles Heel, Batcrack!" He punctuated each syllable, "and I did _not_ _let_ anyone get hurt! If it hadn't been for that damn piece of kryptonite I could have prevented most of the carnage! But you wouldn't know that would you? Because you don't seem to ask questions, you just assume, which just makes you an ass!"

"Well, you don't provide all of the important information one needs not to make those assumptions, and you forgot about the part where assuming makes an ass out of you as well," Bruce retorted.

The red clouding Clark's vision deepened to a bloody scarlet and he was almost certain his eyes were no longer their vivid blue, but the glowing orange color they usually turned when he was about to use his heat vision. His face twisted into an ugly snarl and he growled fiercely, "First of all, don't talk about things you know nothing about! You weren't there so you haven't a clue as to how quickly things got out of control. It wasn't my fault that this happened! Second, you're playing with fire, Batcrack! You seem to be forgetting that you are a mere human, while I am much much more. I am stressed out beyond belief and I have to figure out not only how to save everyone from dying, but to try and find a friend who was kidnapped by that monster. Watch your words because I'm just far gone enough to do something I'd never normally do, and the pain I could cause you would make you _wish_ you were dead!"

Bruce's lips quirked up slightly, triumphantly, "What are you feeling right now?"

Clark looked at Bruce like he was crazy. His change in tone and attitude had nearly given him whiplash. He was no longer cocky and sneering, but calm, cool, collected. Clark was completely stymied, "What?"

"What are you feeling right now?" Bruce repeated, his voice more meaningful.

Clark furrowed his brows, "Rage, annoyance, the need for revenge," he answered thoughtfully.

Bruce nodded, "That's a good start, Boy Scout. Now tell me what you don't feel."

It didn't seem possible, but Clark's brows furrowed even further, "I don't understand what you mean."

"During you're angry tirade you mentioned something really important, so think about what you said and think hard, then tell me what you come up with," Bruce told him with a stoic voice.

Clark thought about everything he'd said for a good long while before an epiphany struck him and he realized the point that Bruce was trying to make, "I don't feel guilty. This wasn't my fault."

Bruce's smile widened, "Exactly, Kent. What happened wasn't your fault but you were so busy internalizing everything that happened that you couldn't see it, and it was hindering your ability to use your heroic side to fix the problems at hand. What do you feel now?"

"My feelings haven't changed," Clark admitted, "I still feel rage and annoyance, and I still want revenge. I just don't feel guilty anymore, for the most part," he added thinking of Lois and Kara.

"That's good Clark," Bruce told him, a hint of a smile in his voice. Then his tone turned deadly serious, "Focus on those emotions, Boy Scout. The rage, the annoyance, the thirst for revenge, those emotions can make you powerful. You can use them to be a better hero until this situation is resolved, but don't think for one minute that you should hold on to those feelings forever because they'll eat at you, make you a shell of the man you should be. I know this from experience and it's not easy to come back from."

Clark shook his head and humphed in amazement, "So all this time, all the barbs and snarky comments – you were just saying all of that stuff to teach me a lesson?"

"Well, not all of it was for that purpose, but, for the most part, yes," Bruce answered, before changing the subject like what had just occurred between the two men was nothing, "Now tell me, under normal circumstances, why you fight as The Red-Blue Blur."

Clark frowned and furrowed his brows, running a hand through his hair as he thought about this. It was a moment before he could answer, "I don't know . . . Truth, justice,, and . . . other stuff."

"Other stuff?" Bruce chuckled both at Clark's wording and his uncertain tone, "Could you be a little more specific?"

Clark's frown deepened, "The American way I suppose."

"Truth, justice, and the American way," Bruce repeated to himself, adding this to his analysis of the intergalactic traveler sitting not a foot from his right side. "I like it," he concluded, pleased, but then he switched topics again, "Tell me about kryptonite."

Clark sucked in a deep breath, "Kryptonite is the meteors that came down during the first meteor shower in Smallville, when I came to Earth as a child. It's irradiated shards of my home planet, Krypton, and it's the only thing I'm vulnerable to . . . well besides magic."

Bruce looked away from the road at Clark, his eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline in skepticism, "Magic?"

Clark sighed at Bruce's scathing tone, "Yes, magic."

Still doubtful, Bruce frowned and put up his thumb and pointer finger as he continued, "So you're trying to tell me that _one_ magic is real and _two_ that a being as indestructible as yourself is allergic to a few card tricks?"

"That's exactly what I'm trying to tell you, Captain Obvious," Clark rolled his eyes, "or is repeating what people say another one of your unsavory hobbies? And I wasn't referring to card tricks."

"I don't buy it," Bruce argued, voice neutral but serious as a heart attack.

Clark rotated his neck so that his head and eyes were tilted at the ceiling of the Lamborghini, "Let me guess, you're one of those 'I have to see it to believe it' type of people?"

Bruce shrugged, "What can I say? I'm a pragmatist."

"I lost that personality trait when I hit five and started bench pressing tractors, and again when I was fifteen and I learned I'm not even from this planet and that exposure to meteor rock gives people insane super powers that comes with the tendency to go from zero to crazy like this," Clark snapped his fingers. "Guess that's one of the drawbacks of living in Smallville your whole life."

"I've dealt with a lot of crazy people myself," Bruce shared stoically, "but not one of them has ever displayed any type of pagan magical ability, just your typical metahuman ones."

"I wouldn't believe it either if a witch from the 16th century hadn't zapped my powers back when I was a senior in high school," Clark sighed, thinking back to when Lana had been possessed by Countess Margaret Isabelle Thoreaux. "Obviously the spell didn't do any lasting damage, but it wasn't a fun thing to experience."

"I still don't believe you," Bruce insisted, shaking his head.

"Twenty minutes ago you didn't believe that little green men exist," Clark pointed out.

"I still don't believe in little green men," Bruce retorted with a smirk.

"Well, you're only sitting a foot away from one," Clark reminded him.

"I may be sitting next to a being from another planet, but you are neither little nor green, so my disbelief in their existence still has yet to be disproved," Bruce explained.

Clark rolled his eyes, "Do you always have to be so literal?"

Bruce shrugged, "It's a gift."

"Sure it is," Clark told him sarcastically.

Bruce grinned a tiny bit at Clark's frustration, before promptly changing the subject to something more important, "So the creature responsible for this gory wedding debacle is called Doomsday?"

"Yes," Clark said heavily, "It was Doomsday."

"What is Doomsday exactly?" Bruce asked gravely.

"According to my Kryptonian father, Jor-El, and John Jones, the man back at the farm with my mother, Doomsday was created by the man responsible for destroying our planet, General Zod. My entire planet is gone, Bruce. Doomsday is supposed to be an ultimate destroyer and I am its intended target. Most of the time he looks like a man until he transforms into the beast who ruined Chloe and Jimmy's wedding, but other than that, I don't know much else," Clark responded, still irked by his lack of knowledge about his current foe de force.

"When will I get to meet this father of yours?" Bruce inquired curiously. "Since it seems he knows more about this situation than you do, don't you think we ought to include him in our investigations?"

Clark laughed ruefully, "Both my adoptive and birth fathers are dead, Bruce. I can speak to my Kryptonian father because he created a magnificent fortress full of all the knowledge spanning the twenty-eight known galaxies and fashioned it after my home planet's terrain. When I say that I speak to him," Clark clarified, "I mean that I speak with an artificially intelligent form of his living memory. He's just a voice, he has no tangibility. The only blood family I have left is lying dead on a bale of hay covered up with a ratty tablecloth back in that sorry excuse for a barn."

Bruce looked down at the steering wheel and frowned in sadness. Martha Kent had been correct when she'd told him that Clark had suffered and lost much on the way to becoming the Red-Blue Blur. Bruce knew the pain of losing one's parents, but Clark had lost not only his birth parents but an entire civilization, his adoptive father, and probably countless others along the way.

"I'm sorry," Bruce told him in the most sincere of tones he'd ever used in the short while he'd known Clark Kent.

"For what?" Clark questioned suspiciously. Bruce's genuineness didn't jive with the image of the older man he'd formed since their introduction and it threw him for a loop.

Bruce bit the inside of his cheek, wary of sharing their mutual pain since he was a very private person who rarely ever shared this tale with anyone, but he knew it must be done, "I too know the pain of losing parents. My mother and father were killed in front of me as a boy. They were being mugged and the criminal went after my mother. My father tried to protect her and the next thing I knew I was a sobbing orphan in my finest clothes while my parents bled to death in their expensive opera wear in the middle of the street."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Clark told his new comrade authentically. "That's why you do what you do now, isn't it?"

Bruce paused, "It didn't start out that way. Like many I began a treacherous path that could have led to total self-destruction, but someone took an interest in me. That person helped me turn all my anger and desire for revenge into something productive both for me and society."

"This is probably rude," Clark said candidly, "but why Batman?"

Bruce's eyes got a far away look in them as he remembered that fateful day he and Rachel had been playing together, "As a boy my greatest fear was of the dark. One day I was playing with a childhood friend on our property and the ground caved in. I fell into the blackness and was greeted by a swarm of bats. From that day on bats replaced darkness as my greatest fear. When I made the decision to bring my own unique sense of justice to Gotham, I decided I would strike fear into the hearts of the criminals I hunted using the same thing that I feared for so many years of my life, so I became Batman."

Clark nodded several times, letting the information soak in, "It was a woman wasn't it?"

"A woman?" Bruce queried, cocking an eyebrow even though he knew what Clark was referring to.

Clark studied Bruce's face thoughtfully, "A woman who helped you turn all that anger into something productive; who gave you back your humanity?"

Bruce closed his eyes briefly, feeling a pang in his heart at the thought of Rachel, "It wasn't a woman who helped me hone the skills I needed to become Batman, but it was a very special woman who made me realize that I was fighting for the wrong things, and yes, she did give me back my humanity."

Clark looked down at his hands, "You're lucky to have someone like that."

Bruce's gaze became distant again, "I was lucky."

"Was?" Clark asked, wondering if all heroes had to suffer endless loss to keep them motivated for their humanitarian endeavors.

"She's dead now," Bruce said hollowly, "I failed her. They say that you can never feel the love that you felt for you first love with anyone else. I hope to God that that isn't true. You don't want to become like me, Clark – a lonely, despondent vigilante."

"I have someone," Clark admitted, thinking of Lois and feeling his stomach clench painfully, "a woman who I love. I had someone before her, another woman I loved but my first never inspired me to be a better hero or person – I had to be a hero for her because she was so often in need of rescuing, but _Lois_ . . . Lois doesn't just make me want to be a better hero, she makes me want to be a better man. She's dying right now because of something I did, a mistake I made. I can't imagine what I'd do without her. All I know is it wouldn't be living."

Bruce shook his head, "No, it wouldn't be, but I can tell you what you would do if she weren't here anymore – you would keep fighting, for her you would keep fighting because that's what she would want."

Clark nodded grimly, "She doesn't even know my secret. I was going to tell her, but Doomsday attacked before I could, and now . . ."

"It doesn't matter that she doesn't know, Clark, on a conscious level anyway," Bruce reassured him. "Deep down she knows who you really are and she would encourage you to follow your destiny."

Clark remained silent, letting his thoughts churn violently inside his head.

"She's the reason I can't call you Clarkie or Smallville isn't she?" Bruce presumed rather simply.

Clark sighed, temporarily letting go of his frustrations, "You are a brilliant master of deduction _Batcrack_. If I'd known this earlier I would have come to you straight away to solve all of my intergalactic issues."

"Thin ice, _farm boy_," Bruce growled, somewhat jokingly, "thin ice."

Clark suddenly flashed his brilliant Kent grin, "I'm not afraid of you, _Batboy_ and I'm impervious to the cold."

"You may be impervious to the cold, but you're IQ's not too high," Bruce jabbed, serving to furrow Clark's brows, which led to Bruce's sarcastic retort, "You already told me what you aren't impervious to and you just met me – smooth move brain trust."

Clark rolled his eyes, "Ha ha."

"It isn't funny, Clark," Bruce insisted, "Just because Oliver trusts me doesn't mean you should be so quick to extend me the same courtesy. I could really be evil or a self-serving bastard that would lock you up for the rest of your life and dissect you."

"Not unlike another billionaire I used to know," Clark laughed bitterly, thinking of Lex.

"See," Bruce pounced on the open opportunity, "you have a pattern of putting your trust in the wrong people."

"You may be older than me by a few years, but I didn't sign up to be lectured and bent over Old Pappy's knee for a good spanking, so keep your opinions to yourself, Batwad," Clark jeered, annoyed by Bruce's ability to peg him straight on.

"And I didn't sign up to be subjected to the juvenile dramatics of a whining, sniveling intergalactic illegal alien on the verge of a mental breakdown, Red-Blue Jerk. Cry me a river then get your act together because we have a job to do," Bruce indicated that they had finally arrived at the Smallville Medical Center.

"You have arrived at your destination: Smallville Medical Center," the mechanical female voice announced, breaking the flow of their banter.

Clark huffed and praised whatever higher deity there was, before mumbling, "Longest car ride _ever_."

"Feeling's mutual kid," Bruce quipped, "Now let's get down to business." He swept out of the illegally parked Lamborghini and strode purposefully through the emergency room entrance with Clark on his heels.

Before Bruce could reach his intended targets, however, Clark was bombarded by a still distraught Lucy, Pete, Vanessa, and Moira Sullivan. The women came at him from all sides, quite literally like he was the last man on Earth and they were ready to fight for their claim on him, and pelted him with questions.

"Did you find Chloe?" Lucy and Moira echoed in unison.

"Where's Victor?" Vanessa demanded at the same time.

"Who is he?" All three women, plus Pete fired away, looking to Bruce, before Clark had a chance to answer any of the other questions.

Bruce didn't wait for Clark to introduce him. He stepped confidently forward and stuck out his hand to each of the four people crowding around Clark, "Bruce Wayne, Wayne Enterprises."

Moira turned on Clark with wrathful eyes, and a tone of voice that could kill, "_He's_ who you disappeared for? _That_ was your business? Meeting billionaires?"

Clark squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth as Moira screeched at him, his super-hearing extra sensitive since the final transformation not even an hour before, "Bruce is here to help. He's friends with Oliver Queen."

"From where I'm sitting that only helps Oliver Queen," Lucy bit into him next, sassy a total understatement as an adjective for her attitude. "How does he help my sister and my cousin?"

Clark rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, suddenly feeling very tired as the many hours it had been since he'd slept started to take their toll. Even though he didn't require as much sleep as a human, he still was feeling the exhaustion that comes from lack of sleep. The transformation wasn't helping matters either. It was meant to make him stronger, but it was having the opposite effect on him right now. The pain of the final metamorphosis had completely wiped him out; not to mention the physical and emotional strain he was under.

"He doesn't," Clark answered wearily, ignoring the fire in the eyes of the three women. "He helps me," he sighed, rubbing his eyes, "With Bruce here he can help me deal with everything including Lois and Chloe. Two heads are better than one and right now I need two heads. I can't be everywhere at once and I'm already stretched way too thin."

"So you haven't even tried to find Chloe yet, have you?" Moira accused, her once loving gaze turning accusatory in her turmoil over her daughter and niece.

Clark looked down at the linoleum of the hospital floor regretfully, before meeting his best friend's mother's eyes, "No, I haven't, but finding her is still a priority for me and I expect you not to forget that. I'm only a man, Mrs. Sullivan and you were an eye-witness to what that monster can do. I'm putting my life on the line for your family going after that thing, and I'm not doing it because I feel responsible. I'm doing it because they are as much my family as they are yours. I love them too and I expect you not to forget that either."

The expression on Moira's face softened and she looked appropriately abashed. She sighed and so did Lucy, "I apologize for being so disrespectful and rude, Clark. It's just . . . I just got them back. After all the time I lost, I can't lose them now."

"I'm sorry too, Clark," Lucy whispered, seeming a little horrified at her behavior. Pete squeezed her hand.

"I understand why you are both upset and after all the time I've spent with Lois, I know that some of this is just the Lane genes, but I'm doing the best that I can here and I know it's not enough. With Bruce here, my best effort only gets better and better, so please respect me and him."

Vanessa gazed at Clark defiantly, and he noticed that she was still clutching the blood-stained, scratched up digital video camera that had been used to record the wedding and unfortunate reception so hard her knuckles were white, "I won't respect you until you tell me where Victor is. I've asked every nurse, doctor and administrator I could find, and no one has any record of a Victor Stone being admitted to any part of this hospital."

Clark swallowed hugely, "Victor is in Metropolis."

Vanessa cocked her head at him in confusion, "Metropolis?"

Clark blew out a breath, trying to figure out how to explain Victor's situation to his new love interest without giving away his secret, "Victor has special needs, Vanessa. Needs that Smallville Medical Center is simply not equipped to deal with. I contacted someone from Queen Industries and he was transported to a facility that could take care of his unique situation. The doctors there have been periodically briefing me on his condition, and though he's hurt badly, they say he will make a brilliant recovery."

Vanessa breathed a sighed of relief and, thankfully, didn't question Clark any further, merely saying, "Thank you."

Clark nodded at her and gave her a slight smile, "I'm just glad I can give someone some good news. Would it be alright if I borrowed that, Vanessa?" He asked, moving his eyes to the camera. "It may help me find Chloe. I promise I'll give it back."

Vanessa nodded, sinking into the waiting room seat directly behind her and receiving a reassuring squeeze from the hand of Pete's that wasn't encased in Lucy's.

Clark looked to Lucy and Moira, "I'm going to try and get an update on Lois' condition. I'll let you know if there's anything new to report."

"I'll accompany you," Bruce asserted, not seeming bothered by the bloody mass of people awaiting treatment in the E.R.

"Whatever floats your boat," Clark grunted in resignation. He searched the room for doctors and nurses but Dr. Welling wasn't anywhere in sight. He focused his hearing, listening for her bright and shiny but all business voice and followed the sound, not caring who he bumped into or stepped on in his wake.

When he finally found her, she was working on a trauma patient whose heart wasn't responding to epinephrine or the crash cart paddles. Deciding to flex some of his new metaphoric muscles, he sent three short bursts of heat energy from his eyes directly at the patient's heart. Almost immediately, the strong muscle started pumping again and Dr. Welling jumped back in surprise with the crash cart paddles in her hands as though a police officer had just ordered her to put her hands up.

"Whoa!" She cried in shock, but she recovered quickly, "Close him up and get him to the I.C.U. I'll be in Trauma 2."

"Dr. Welling?" Clark asked tentatively, causing the doctor to start again.

She scurried around to face him, her expression fierce but when she saw who it was she relaxed minutely, "Mr. Kent! You shouldn't be in here," she admonished him half-heartedly.

Clark nodded apologetically, "I know," he agreed, "and I'm sorry," he rushed out, trying to sound fittingly remorseful for his intrusion, "I just . . . I need to know if there is anything new on Lois."

Dr. Welling bit her lip, "I've only had the chance to check in on her once since you left, Clark, and she's fighting, but her condition is critical. I know this isn't what you want to hear, but she's fighting a losing battle. The surgeons on her case won't give up until it's certain that she's definitely starting to lose. Unfortunately, I can't give you a proper estimate of when that might be. It could be hours, it could be minutes. If it's the former, and I really hope that it is, there's still a chance she won't make it because all of the blood that we had stored for situations like this one is fading fast. It's lucky that Ms. Lane has a rare blood type, but eventually that too will run out. We're trying to rally all of the neighboring hospitals to give any excess blood they can do without, but stuff like that takes time and paperwork."

Tears formed in Clark's eyes at this news and he nodded bereftly, momentarily unable to speak.

"Dr. Welling," Bruce said formally, offering his hand the way he had when he'd introduced himself to Pete, Vanessa, Lucy, and Moira, "Bruce Wayne."

Dr. Welling looked as though she didn't know how to react to Bruce's preamble, looking reluctantly toward Trauma 2 before taking his hand and shaking it. "Mr. Wayne, what can I do for you?"

"It's not really what you can do for me," Bruce informed her, "I need immediate conference with this hospital's Chief of Staff and Chief of Surgery on the matter of the care of Oliver Queen and several other patients who were admitted around the same time as he was."

"I'm needed in Trauma 2, Mr. Wayne," Dr. Welling informed the billionaire abruptly, "Right now, the size of a patient's bank account is completely irrelevant, everyone is the same, and they all get the same care." She turned on her heel and headed off in the direction of Trauma 2.

Bruce grabbed her upper arm and spun her back around to face him, "I don't mean to be rude, doctor, and I certainly don't enjoy manhandling a woman, but if my conference is granted as soon as possible, this hospital will receive hefty donations from both myself and Queen Industries," he said smoothly, releasing her upper arm and oozing charm, "and about that waning blood supply you were talking about earlier, I can help you fix that faster than bureaucracy will ever be able to."

"Nurse Case Manager Ashmore is the woman you want to talk to about that," Dr. Welling conceded. "She's in the east wing, admitting patients into the hospital. She can arrange a meeting."

"Thank you," Bruce said sweetly, "and I do hope you'll forgive me for the manhandling."

Dr. Welling didn't respond and finally hurried off to Trauma 2.

"That was a lot easier than I thought," Bruce said lightly as he headed toward the east wing of the hospital.

"Did you really have to grab her like that?" Clark seethed, protective of the doctor who had saved Lois' life earlier that day.

"I do what's necessary," Bruce said simply, "Not all of it is enjoyable."

"Well, I'm coming with you," Clark avowed, wary of leaving Bruce alone with any of the other hospital staff. "Just in case you have to do anything else that's _'necessary'_."

"Oh," Bruce said, slightly taken aback with himself, "didn't I tell you?"

Clark raised his eyebrows, and answered pertly, "Obviously not."

"You're to come with me," Bruce told him.

Clark sighed, and waved Bruce ahead, "You lead, I'll follow."

"I hope that's not a typical response for you, Boy Scout," Bruce observed, "That would be rather disappointing."

"Whatever, Batcrack," Clark shrugged, not in the mood to react to Bruce's taunts after hearing Dr. Welling's report on Lois, "Just do what needs to be done because, honestly, I don't know anymore."

~*~

The East Wing

Smallville Medical Center

Nurse Case Manager Ashmore was a hardy woman, tall with ample bone structure. She wasn't fat but sturdy and had a serious look about her, one that seemed to extend beyond the crisis situation, like she was a hardass even on a slow day. Her brown curly hair was pulled back into a severe bun and she wore the standard issue blue hospital scrubs. Her eyes were dark and keen as though she could look right through you.

"Nurse Ashmore," Bruce greeted amiably, "I was told you are the woman to talk to about setting up a meeting with this hospital's Chief of Staff and Chief of Surgery."

She rolled her eyes, "It's Nurse Case Manager Ashmore, and our Chiefs of Staff and Surgery have their hands full at the moment Mr.?"

"Wayne," Bruce supplied, his tone still genial, "Bruce Wayne, and trust me, Nurse Case Manager Ashmore, they'll want to hear what I have to say."

"Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises?" She questioned, her eyebrows raised.

Bruce nodded and smiled, and she smiled back, "Sorry, we don't have time for billionaires right now. We're busy saving lives."

"I understand that," Bruce nodded accommodatingly, reaching his hand inside his suit jacket and pulling out a large stack of bills. "That's $100,000. One of many sizeable donations Wayne Enterprises will make to this hospital if you can manage to get me, your Chiefs of Staff and Surgery, and Mr. Kent in the same room together for a minimum of ten minutes," he haggled with ease, "and this," he added, pulling out a tiny silver cell phone and placing his thumb on the send button, "one push of this button gets you all the blood you need to keep your overabundance of patients alive for the next year."

Nurse Case Manager Ashmore sighed in defeat and awe, "You certainly know how to fight to win your battles, Mr. Wayne. I'll get them on the phone and arrange a meeting."

"Thank you," Bruce said sincerely.

Ten minutes later, Bruce, Clark and Dr. Vandervoort, Chief of Surgery, were sitting comfortably in leather arm chairs in Dr. Witwer's, the Chief of Staff's, office.

Dr. Witwer began the conversation, "Tell me Mr. Wayne, what is it that you want in exchange for the donation and access to the blood?"

"You are currently treating some patients that are of interest to me," Bruce answered, his voice a monotone. He placed his expansive briefcase on Dr. Witwer's fine oak desk. He bent forward so he was eye level with a red LED light that scanned his retina.

"Identity confirmed: Bruce Wayne," a mechanical female voice announced to the room before a popping noise signifying the case's lock opening echoed throughout the room.

Bruce pulled out a stack of files, the first of which had 'CLASSIFIED' stamped in red letters on the cover and Oliver's picture paper clipped to the top, "Oliver Queen," he said, laying the file down on the desk, "Dinah Lance," he placed an identical folder except with Dinah's picture paper clipped to the front on top of Oliver's file so that they were the beginnings of a fanned out display, "Bart Allen," he laid down another file, "Arthur Currie," he laid down another file, "Lana Lang," he laid down another file, "Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen," their files did not have 'CLASSIFIED' stamped on them, but they did have their pictures paper clipped to it like all the others.

Dr. Witwer began typing swiftly at her computer keyboard, giving Bruce a quick once over that went unnoticed by Clark as she keyed in the information she needed, and a few seconds later she confirmed, "We are treating all of those people here, but you already knew that, so what do you want from us, Mr. Wayne? I am incredibly taxed at the moment. My time, as well as Dr. Vandervoort's, is precious and I will not ask again."

"Oliver Queen and I are the co-chairs of some very important projects going on in the United States government at the moment. Those patients, in one way or another, have ties to those projects. Continued treatment of those patients here at the Smallville Medical Center would reveal information to you and your staff that is classified, so I'm requesting that you let their caretaker make plans for their transfer."

"I would assume," Dr. Vandervoort spoke for the first time, his voice deep and rich, "that you would be their caretaker and responsible for all of their medical decisions. Or am I incorrect?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact," Bruce enlightened them all. "The only person authorized to make any medical decisions regarding these specific patients is Clark Kent."


End file.
